Falling Slowly
by where-is-the-fire804
Summary: Modern day AU. How Peeta meets and falls in love with Katniss. He doesn't realize what he's gotten himself into, but he doesn't mind.
1. Chapter 1: Some Nights

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters. I also do not own the lyrics to Some Nights by Fun.  
**

Chapter 1: Some Nights

Peeta's POV

"Alright team! It's ten o'clock, let's go!" I yell out to my team running drills out on the practice field. I can see the way their heads are down and how their feet drag as they jog over to me on the sideline. Knowing the question before it's asked, I automatically try to brighten their spirits. "Come on; lift your eyes and chins up! We're going to win against these towheaded amateurs!"

"Do you really think so?" a gruff voice asks from the back. After a second of looking through my team of gangly thirteen year olds, I see the voice came from none other than our star player, Vick Hawthorne.

"Of course I do! You guys may not be as big as those massive monsters," I steal a look over to the other end of the field where the biggest thirteen year old boys I've ever seen are practicing, "But we are much quicker than they are. Also, you guys are skilled beyond belief! It must have been the best luck I've ever had to have been sent you guys for my team. Honestly, you guys are great and I'll be proud of you no matter what happens out there. As long as you play smart and not rough, you should beat those fools."

I smile at my newly encouraged team and thrust a hand out in front of me. All of the boys follow my lead and together we yell, "Go Lightning!"

We jog over to the playing field, and they automatically align themselves in their positions perfectly without being told. I never have to yell directions to them. They are the smartest bunch of kids I've ever met, and they play like professionals. No doubt every single kid on the team will get a full ride to college to play on the soccer team. I've already seen a few scouts out to watch their games.

The game starts, and my boys figure out how to outsmart the other team within two minutes. The other team's boys are like bulls, so it's hard for them to change direction quickly. My boys draw their opponents in towards them and at the last moment they dart to open inside, quickly passing and scoring goals.

By half-time we're up by six goals. When my team jogs off the field for water, we debrief as we always do.

"John, go." I start quickly.

"I shouldn't have moved into the narrow gap of the two players. It was a trap," John says so swiftly that afterwards he gulps in air to satisfy the needs of his strained lungs.

I waste no time. "Good. Breathe. Timothy, go."

"When John was almost sandwiched and needed to pass, I should have moved up quicker so I could have been there for him."

"Wonderful. Ricky, go."

"During our throw in by Henry, I should have moved up closer to the goal."

"Perfect. Henry, go."

We continue on until I get through all my players, and they all tell me at least one thing that they realize they did wrong.

I can see the other team's coach looking at my team and me from his side of the field with an expression of awe. He must think it's crazy that I'm able to drill my boys like this without any backtalk. I know that a lot of the coaches don't regard me with respect because I'm only twenty one years old. When my team beats theirs though, the coaches usually shut up and stop making jokes at my expense.

"Go back out there and finish it, boys," I say to them with a smile. Then I turn serious, "Remember the number one rule, though."

As the boys stand up to get back on the field to play, they say in unison, "Don't be arrogant."

"That's right, and don't you boys forget it," I call out to my players' backs.

After the game is finished and won by our team by eleven points, everyone decides to go out to eat to celebrate. This is a tradition for our team. We practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays (sometimes Fridays), and then have games Saturdays, and when we win on Saturdays we go out to eat. It's nothing special.

That's what I thought, at least, until this Saturday when I pulled up to our usual restaurant. Because that's when I saw her.

I was standing in the parking lot leaning against my car because I was reluctant to go inside and sit at a huge table by myself while I waited for the first of my group to arrive. Hearing Gale Hawthorne's truck before I could see it, I turned toward the sound. Looking inside his non-tinted windows, I see that he and Vick are not alone. Vick and Rory are sitting in the back seat with a petite blond girl but sitting next to Gale in the passenger seat—the seat that is closest to where I'm standing—was a dark haired woman who was absolutely beautiful.

When they pull up, the window is slightly down, and that's how I'm able to hear her singing. It's music to my ears… literally. I never want to stop hearing it. If I could listen to her voice singing forever, I would do it and would not think twice about it. Even the birds in the looming trees stop their evening songs.

Some Nights by Fun. is what she's singing. I love that song even more now that I hear her rendition of it. It's near the middle and she belts out the lyrics with a grin on her face. All three kids in the back are singing with her, but when the slowed down solo comes—the part that that is supposed to just be spoken—she looks back at the smaller girl in the back and lightly sings with a small smile:

_So this is it?_

_I sold my soul for this?_

_I washed my hands of God for this?_

She looks down and frowns as she sadly sings the next verse.

_I miss my mom and dad for this?_

Her eyes look up and a half smile replaces her frown.

_No, when I see stars, when I see, when I see stars, that's all they are._

_When hear songs, they sound like sound like this one, so come on._

Then, as if this has been many times, Vick and Rory in the back seat sing the next 'Oh come on' and hold the note while the blond girl next to them pipes out the next, higher pitched 'Oh come on' and the woman in the front supplies the highest and most beautiful 'Oh come on' of them all. They're all beaming like idiots and even Gale can't help but smile with them and softly shake his head at their antics.

The all ramble out the ending lyrics, tripping over the words and it seems like none of them know the actual words. They don't care though; they mumble and laugh at each other, all the while bouncing to the beat of the song and smiling so widely it makes me wonder if their cheeks hurt. The only words I can actually make out is the young woman crying out in time with the song, "Who _the fuck_ wants to die alone?"

When the song slows again and the singer starts talking about 'his nephew's eyes,' the woman sighs, "Turn it off please, Gale. I love this song up until this part. It ruins the song. It's annoying and unnecessary."

At her words I almost laugh because I think the same thing. The high pitched, strung on word is irritating and pointless to the song. Then the verses directly after it are swift and don't make any sense to me. I usually turn it off in the exact place she did.

Gale indulges in her request and turns off his truck with a small laugh. "Every time, Catnip, without fail… but it doesn't matter to me because you're the only one that has a hope of hitting that note." As an afterthought he hastily adds, "Except, Prim," he turns to look at the blond girl in the back, "She probably could too."

The little girl blushes, "Nah. Only Kat is _that_ good… she's the one that got all of Dad's voice skills."

The car grows silent, but I don't know why. Honestly, all I can think about is how two people (one of whom I think is her sister) have referred to the ravishing woman in the front as 'Cat'. Or 'Catnip"… that is definitely not what I was expecting her name to be, but I guess I don't really care.

In the car, no one will look at 'Cat' and the little girl—Prim—touches her shoulder, "I'm sorry I bought it up. Let's just go eat."

The older girl nods and smiles softly at her sister. As they all start to climb out of the car, I realize I've been staring at them the entire time. I shift my eyes and body slightly towards the road so it seems like I've been staring there the whole time.

Vick sees me and smiles. He runs up and hugs me, and I laugh at his excitement. He asks if I've been waiting long, and I tell him that I haven't.

The rest of the group approaches and I shake Gale's hand. I look next to the blond girl, even though all I really want to do is stare openly at the dark haired woman.

"Hello," I say with a smile, "I don't believe we've met- Oh yes, we have. Hi, Prim."

"Hi, Peeta," she responds with an easy smile, "I didn't know you were Vick's coach."

"Well, I didn't know that you knew the Hawthorne's."

"Yeah, I've known them since I was a kid. I'm actually Rory's girlfriend."

I don't show it on my face, but I am surprised at this information. I know Rory is seventeen, and I've always assumed this girl to be 15 at the maximum. She is thin and lankier than the average female and has a child-like atmosphere around her.

Prim continues on, "This is my sister. I think I might have mentioned her before."

I look over to the black haired woman and realize that I was wrong. This woman is not beautiful.

_No, beautiful is not the right word and neither is pretty_, I think to myself, _Beautiful is not strong enough. She is- she is… radiant_.

She is the most amazing woman I've ever seen. I wish that I had I pencil and paper so I could draw her with as many details as possible, so I never forget anything that makes her radiant. I want to snap a picture of her for later, but that would be severely creepy.

Then she speaks and her magnificent steel grey eyes are on mine, "I'm Katniss, Prim's sister."

So I was wrong about her name. The older girl's name isn't 'Cat' or a type of cat food. At least I can be happy that I was wrong. This way every time I hear her name, I won't think of cat food.

We are still making eye contact, but when Vick asks if we want to go get a seat inside, she looks away. I miss her eyes on mine, but am content with just looking at her face in stolen glances.

The group that arrived in the Hawthorne truck heads inside with me trailing a few feet behind them and their laughter at some inside joke that I missed.

I walk into the restaurant and can't help thinking that this evening might be one the best one I ever have. All thanks to a black haired, young woman with the voice of an angel from heaven high above.


	2. Chapter 2: Ain't No Mountain High Enough

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters.**

Chapter 2: Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Peeta's POV

I tried not to stare, but I knew I was failing miserably. I could only hope that no one would notice that my attention was solely on the striking woman seated across from me at the restaurant table.

The team and their families were sitting at multiple tables lined up together to make some semblance of one long table. I sit near the middle with Katniss across from me, Gale to my right, and John's sister Delly to my left. Prim sits on Katniss' right with Rory right next to her, and they are talking animatedly about some teacher at their high school.

I sneak another look at Katniss. She's staring at her sister and Rory with small smile, and laughs as they mention a teacher by the name 'Mr. Thread.'

"Mr. Thread gave me Saturday morning detentions for two entire months one time in my junior year," she tells them.

I chance a full-on look at her since it's socially acceptable to look at someone when they are speaking. "Why?" The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about containing them.

She looks over at me and smirks. "Gale Hawthorne. _That's_ why."

I don't quite understand her answer and I'm hoping that she doesn't mean she and Gale got caught at school doing anything PDA related. But, luckily or unluckily for me, Gale decides to explain.

"Whoa now, hold up," he says loudly, raising one hand up in a 'stop' motion, "Your mouth is what got you in trouble!"

Her _mouth_? So my fears are confirmed. They must have been caught making out in a hallway or closet or something. Prim and Rory raise their eyebrows at this bit of information too.

"_My_ _mouth_ was saving your ass!" Katniss narrows her eyes at Gale and then turns to me to finish telling her side of the story. "We were in the same history class during my junior year because Hawthorne over here failed a grade _and,_ on top of that, failed US History, so he had to take it again with my class," she rolls her eyes at Gale, "He fell asleep in class one day during a lecture and Mr. Thread caught him. Mr. Thread was going to give Gale detention every Saturday morning for a month, but I knew Gale had to work every Saturday that month, so I said I'd take the detentions for him."

Gale narrows his eyes at Katniss, "It didn't go quite as smoothly as she makes it sound but yeah, close enough… and we all know why I failed a grade…"

Katniss lowers her eyes along with Prim and Rory, and then Katniss reaches across the table and grabs Gale's hand. "Hey," she says quietly, "I didn't mean to make it sound like you were slacking off and weren't trying. I know you were. We all were when our dads..."

At this point, I can't help but think that I'm intruding on a private moment. I want to look away and give them privacy, but I can't force my eyes away from this heartfelt moment between the group.

He half-smiles at her. "It's okay, Catnip. I know you didn't mean it like that. I was just having a hard time trying to juggle a full-time job and school." He smiles a little bigger. "Thanks for taking the detentions for me. I don't think I ever properly thanked you."

Katniss laughs softly, "No, you probably didn't ever thank me, but I know you appreciated it. You would have done the same thing in my position."

"You're right; I would have done the same thing. That's what you and I do, Catnip, we look out for each other."

Katniss grins, but I frown. Something doesn't add up. I look up at Katniss. "Didn't you say you got _two_ months of Saturday detentions, but Mr. Thread only threatened to give Gale one month?"

Snorting, Katniss answers, "Oh, yeah… I might have called Mr. Thread some names under my breath. Mr. Thread apparently has really good hearing."

Gale smiles wide, "Oh yeah! I remember now! You called him a-"

Her eyes quickly cut to Gale, silencing him with her a look in her eyes that screams 'say-any-more-and-I-will-strangle-you-with-my-bare-hands.' Through clenched teeth, she hisses to him, "Not in front of Prim."

Prim frowns at her sister, but Gale just smirks and turns to me, "I'll tell you later."

I chuckle looking back at Katniss who is slightly blushing, "Alright." I'm interested to learn anything I can about this loyal woman in front of me.

Rory leans forward, "Is this why Mr. Thread hates me? Every time I so much as sneeze, he threatens to send to the principal."

Katniss and Gale laugh and in unison say, "Probably."

Prim frowns—which doesn't look natural on her face—her eyebrows scrunching together as she looks back and forth between Gale and Katniss, "Mr. Thread doesn't have a prejudice against me, though. Why would he dislike Rory—because of you guys—but not me?"

Smiling at her sister, Katniss says quietly, "No one can hate you, Prim. You're too sweet. Everybody can't help but love you. You bring sunshine into everyone's life. You _are_ sunshine."

The rest of the dinner goes on in relative quietness. Katniss only speaks when directly spoken to, and I am too afraid to speak up because she has a scowl on her face that could put anybody's attempt to shame. Prim and Rory keep to themselves and Gale keeps Vick occupied. The rest of the families keep to themselves, leaving me to sneak looks at Katniss when I think no one is looking.

Dinner finally ends, and we head out to the parking lot.

I start to panic because I don't know if I'll ever see her again. Gale and I aren't really good friends, so I can't hope to see her again through Gale. I try to think of a way that I could casually ask to see her again without it being really awkward and weird. Katniss' group is almost to their truck. _Think, Mellark, think!_

"Hey, Gale!" I call out finally.

He turns around and raises an eyebrow as I jog up to him. "Yeah?"

"Um, I'm having my annual Halloween party at my apartment this weekend… I was uh, wondering if you wanted to come."

Smiling broadly, he laughs, "Yeah, sure! You know I can't pass up a party!"

_Now's my chance… do it…_ "Hey, Katniss… would you like to come too?"

As she turns to look at me with pure surprise on her face, I can't slow down my beating heart. I'm nervous for her answer because I think she'll say no, but I want her to say yes so badly.

Slowly, she starts to shake her head, but Gale jumps in, "Come on, Kat! When was the last time you went to a party? When was the last time you even went out? … Come to think of it—when was the last time you did anything fun _at all_?"

Katniss looks sharply at Gale, "I have fun! I just don't like to go out a lot," she looks at me with a frown on her face, "Especially when I won't know anybody there."

"Come to my party." I can't think of anything else to say.

Looking at her with a puppy dog face, Gale clasps his hands in front of him to beg, "Please, Kat."

She turns back to me with one side of her pulled up in a heart stopping smile, "Alright! Gale, stop whimpering like a puppy! I'll go."

I smile so wide it hurts, "Fantastic!" I sort of want her number, but I don't want to outright ask for it. "Um hey, Katniss. What is- what's your number? I'll text you the information—when and where—that sort of thing."

I pull out my phone and she prattles out her number, so I can save it into my contact list. I smile once her name is typed in and I've hit save. "Thanks, I'll see you guys Saturday!"

As I drive home that night, I think that is might have been the best day ever. I can't wait to see her again Saturday night. I'm so excited that it almost hurts. But I don't care; I'll take the pain if it means I get to see her again.

**A/N: One more chapter under my belt! All of the responses I've received for the first chapter were fantastic, so thank you to all that reviewed! I realize that my Katniss may be a little OOC, but hey! It's an AU, so whatever!  
I've decided to put a song with every chapter, so this chapter's song is Ain't No Mountain High Enough (the version sung by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell).  
If you want to, go ahead and follow me on tumblr. I'm not a Hunger Games blog, so this is a forewarning. You can find my url on my profile.  
I'm not going to beg for reviews, but I will tell you guys that they make me smile when I see them :)  
Also, I won't have a planned out update schedule. The updates will be random, with probably a few days in between each one. You can most likely expect one update every weekend, though.**


	3. Chapter 3: Glad You Came

**A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to post. School has been kicking my butt, and I don't have as much time as I thought I would on weekends with my camping trips. Good news is that I got some much needed time with my four-wheeler (and some pretty sweet jumps at high speeds where I got some air but landed wrong—which resulted in a massive bruise on my inner thigh—but oh well). So again I apologize and present Chapter 3. This chapter's song is Glad You Came by The Wanted.**

**You can follow me on tumblr at: where-is-the-fire . tumblr . com**

**Also, thanks for your reviews and follows and favorites! I really appreciate every single one of them :)**

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters.**

Chapter 3: Glad You Came

Peeta's POV

_Do it. Come on, wussy, do it! _

I've been trying to work up the nerve to text Katniss for a solid twenty minutes. I've been failing to text Katniss for a solid twenty minutes.

_She's not _that_ intimidating,_ I think to myself, _… Okay maybe she is, but only face to face… right?_

I stare at my phone and internally debate with myself for five more minutes until I realize that I'll never know if she's coming if I don't ask her.

_Hey Katniss, it's Peeta. I was wondering if you're still coming tomorrow for the party_, I hit send before I can psych myself out.

I stare at my phone for five minutes in the hopes that she'll respond quickly, but when five minutes turns to six, I decide to do some baking to get my mind away from the texts.

I look at the checklist I have for party foods. The great thing about owning a bakery is that when you throw a party, you've good all the party foods you need at your disposal.

I'm letting the dough for the bread rise when I hear it. The ding of a new text message.

Running from the kitchen—and knocking a few things over in the process—I jump over the back of the couch and snatch my phone from the coffee table.

_ Yeah, it's tomorrow, right?_ That's the reply.

I'm a little discouraged at the lack of, well, anything in her reply. She doesn't seem excited or happy. It's just a run of the mill text.

_Yup, tomorrow at 10,_ I send off with my address attached.

A few minutes later I get: _Great. I'll be there. Do I need to bring anything?_

_Nope. Just yourself, and if you want to bring someone you can._

I figure that telling her it's okay to bring someone with her will work out in the end because then I can see if she has a boyfriend. She and Gale seemed chummy, but I know they aren't dating because I've seen him with a blond girl before, and they were _way_ more than chummy.

_Sweet. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then :)_

Oh my- that's a smiley face! An actual smiley face. She's happy that she'll see me tomorrow. She doesn't know how much I've thought about her in the past week. I barely know anything about her, but I want to know every little detail of her life. She has plagued my thoughts, but I don't mind because she is the best thought I've ever thought of. I wouldn't rather think of anything else.

I continue baking and head to the store for a few last minute party items. I know a lot of people will bring drinks and snacks, but I pick up a few things just in case.

When everything is prepared for tomorrow, I lie down and when I close my eyes, all I see is a pair of gray eyes looking back at me with crinkles in the corner from laughter. The olive skin beneath the eyes and the bridge of the nose has a spattering of dark freckles. The freckles spread over the high cheekbones.

This is the image that brings me sleep.

When I wake up, the same image from last night comes to me. I figure I have a few hours to spare, so I grab my sketchbook and head out to the balcony. As I use a charcoal to form her eyes, nose, and cheekbones, I let my mind drift. I make a promise to myself that I will pay more attention to the rest of her face tonight.

I wonder what she's doing right now. Is she thinking about the party tonight? Me? I chuckle when I realize she's probably not even awake yet; I'm quite an early riser. Years at the bakery have given me this, but I asked for today off for the party. I still might still go in for a few hours just to work off steam and get my mind off the party—and Katniss.

After a couple of hours of sketching, I get dressed to go the bakery. I manage the front of the store for a while before my dad sends me home.

I shower and put everything that doesn't need to be refrigerated out. I still have hours before people start arriving, which is perfect.

I get to work on my costume, which takes me hours to accomplish, but I do it. I'm scrambling to put the last few things out when I hear knocking on the door.

I open the door and almost groan when I see who it is, but instead I plaster a huge fake grin on my face.

Glimmer, Clove, Cashmere, and the rest of the group of girls look shocked when they see me but start giggling immediately afterwards. They're all dressed in some sort of slutty costume that shows way more skin than needed.

I assume they giggle because my costume requires me to be shirtless.

Luckily, Finnick—dressed as a lifeguard—and Thresh—dressed as a hillbilly—show up to save me from being alone with a pack of flirtatious girls bent on touching my chest as many times as humanly possible.

Johanna shows up with the blonde girl Gale has been with, who is introduced to me as Madge. They walk over to Finnick and Thresh, effectively giving the giggling, superficial girls the cold shoulder.

Cato walks in with Marvel and a few over guys I don't know too well. They grin at the group of girls who desperately want somebody's attention, and they walk over to greet them.

A few more groups of people show up and the party really starts moving. I start making rounds, trying to be a good host and visit with people I haven't spoken with in too long.

After forty five minutes of this, I'm becoming disheartened. I know that Katniss said she'd come, but I still can't help but feel let down and stood up.

Just as I think these words, the door opens again. Gale is standing there in what's supposed to be a sexy coal miner's outfit. It looks like he achieved the wanted affect too because every lady in the room has paused to take a look at him. He smiles at me and moves through the doorway. Only then do I see Katniss.

She is dressed in an absolutely skin-tight black jumpsuit that leaves _nothing_ to the imagination. _Nothing._ It showed off every curve, every muscle, every line.

I'm not sure what she's supposed to be, but I'm also not sure if I care. I love this outfit no matter what it is supposed to represent. She slowly walks in after Gale, keeping her eyes downcast. She looks slightly uncomfortable—whether it's because of what she's wearing or just being at the party in general; I don't know.

I flick my eyes to Finnick, telling him that we can finish our conversation later. Making my way to Katniss, I grab a beer.

"Hey," I say with a smile when I finally reach her, "Glad you could make it."

She looks up at me with one side of her mouth turned up. "I almost didn't. Gale had to force me out of the house."

"Why?" I scrunch my eyebrows together. I distinctly remembering her text saying she would be here. "Not your scene?" I hand her the beer.

"Yes and no," she smirks at me. "It is definitely not my scene, but the bigger reason was the costume."

"Why? I like it." More like love it.

She grins at me, "You and every other male here."

"Touché," I purse my lips and nod. "No offense, but, uh, what are you?"

She just laughs and smiles one of her crinkle-eye smiles. "Yeah, I had a feeling that I would get that more times than I could count. But I could ask you the same question. What's with all the paint?"

I blush, but I know she can't see it under all the paint. I proudly declare, "I'm a rock."

She slowly raises an eyebrow and in an unimpressed voice she asks, "A rock?"

Blushing even more, I nod. "Yeah, my friends in high school used to call me boulder, so I thought I would give them a laugh."

Her eyebrow still raised, she questions me. "Did you paint yourself?"

I smile a little and nod.

She slowly starts to circle me, bringing a hand to her chin and putting on a thinking face.

I stand stock still until she stops in front of me. I quirk my head to the side and raise an eyebrow, desperate to know what she thinks.

She smiles another crinkley-eyed smile and laughs lightly, "I approve. You've definitely got talent. I can picture you in the middle of the forest under the trees with the light streaming through the cracks in the leaves," as she speaks, she lightly trails a finger from my bare chest down to my stomach, tracing the path of light that I painted just how she described. I will my body to not react to her touch, even though I feel a spark and warmth pooling in the pit of my stomach. "I'm really impressed, Peeta," she pauses and smiles softly, "Actually, I really love it. It reminds me of home."

She seems to be in some sort of trance. Staring at my torso, she takes in all the little details I painted on myself. She slowly reaches for my arm and I hold it out to her. When she takes it, she turns it over and inspects it. Still holding onto my arm, she looks into my eyes. "This must have taken a long time."

"It did, but seriously—what are yo-" but I'm cut off by a booming voice.

"EVERDEEN? KATNISS EVERDEEN?"

Katniss' eyes widen and her mouth drops in horror. "Shit, shit, shit! I didn't know that he would be here!" She ducks her head a little from the man walking over to us.

"It is you! I knew it!" the man practically shouts.

Katniss groans and sighs as she puts a hand up to cover her face. "I did not want to deal with this tonight."


	4. Chapter 4: Awake My Soul

**A/N: Alright, here's the next part! You all get to see who the long awaited 'mystery man' is! An apology goes out to kayola15 because I'm a day later than I said I'd be.**

**I hope you all enjoy because I had fun writing this part. The song for this chapter is Awake My Soul by Mumford & Sons. I wonder if any of you actually listen to these songs.**

**As always, thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! I really appreciate you guys taking time to do that!**

Chapter 4: Awake My Soul 

Peeta's POV

Katniss closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. Letting out a noise of frustration, she turns to face the owner of the boisterous voice.

"What do you want, Cato?" Her voice is irritated, and it makes me happy to see that she does fall to her knees when faced with Cato's self-proclaimed 'charm'.

"Oh, come on now Katniss. That's no way to talk to your high school sweetheart!" Cato smiles what—I'm sure—he thinks is a heartbreaking smile.

His admission shocks me. Of course I would invite a girl I'm very interested in and her previous lover to the same party—_my_ party. But when I look to Katniss, I see that her eyebrows are furrowed and she is staring at Cato like he's got seven heads.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?" She squints her eyes at him and her mouth curls in disgust. "You mean those four years of school where you repeatedly _stalked_ _me_? The way I remember it is you followed me around, constantly flirted, and asked me out every single day. Even though I said _no_ every single time you asked and Gale threatened to beat your ass up, you never got the picture. When I started avoiding you completely—halls, class, stores, everywhere—you decided to amp your creepiness up a notch. I still vividly remember the day you grabbed my ass in the hall when I was on my way to class, and I punched you in the throat and kicked you in the balls," she laughs harshly, "You had still had a black eye from when Gale hit you for telling me I had a great rack at the diner! That might have been the best day of my high school life. Seeing you rolling on the floor with one eye swollen up and black so badly you couldn't see out of it and unsure if you wanted to breathe or grab your sack more—yes, that was definitely the best day of high school. It was worth the week of suspension I got."

Throwing a smirk Cato's way, she bursts out with laughter and has to bend over at the waist. Her hand latches onto my arm because she's laughing so hard she can't even breathe. Her eyes are so bright and happy and crinkled up in the corners that I can't help but smile and laugh with her. Finally she settles down and takes gasping breaths to satisfy her aching lungs.

Cato glares daggers at Katniss as she wipes a few tears from her eyes with a few small chuckles slipping out of her mouth.

She pats him on the shoulder, "Hey, good seeing you. You're always good for a laugh, buddy. Creeper love will always be the strongest love, right?"

Visibly fuming, Cato curses under his breath and stalks away. When he's gone, Katniss drags the back of her hand across her forehead as if wiping off sweat, "Whew, crisis averted."

"That really happened?"

"What? The whole stalker situation that ended in Cato getting beat to a pulp…?" she raises an eyebrow and continues when I nod, "Yeah, that was pretty much my high school years in a nutshell. Creeper chasing me, and then Gale and me beating him up."

Looking into her eyes, I smile crookedly, "I'm sure it wasn't just Cato though. You probably had oodles of boys chasing you. I bet you and Gale had to do a lot of defending."

"Nope, not really. Cato was the only person who showed an interest in me—unwanted or wanted. Other than Gale and Cato, no one really liked me at all. Hated me, if we're being honest."

Now this I couldn't believe. "That's impossible. I don't believe that for a second. I'm positive you had people hanging off your every word and begging you to be friends with them."

"Ha," her eyebrows shoot into her hairline as she chuckles and shakes her head at me, "That's really funny. No, everyone really didn't like me. I'm pretty sure Cato got ostracized from his group of friends for associating with me."

Nothing that she said made sense to me. I barely knew her and I still thought that she was a goddess among mortals. I knew that she was fiercely loyal and determined. And if I learned anything from the Cato story, I learned that she does not take any shit from anybody. "How could anyone possibly hate you?"

"Well, let's see, number one—I was dirt poor, and they were all rich. I couldn't afford a gallon of gas, and they drove BMWs to school. Number two—I didn't care about materialistic things; I really just wanted to put food on my family's table and a roof over their head. I was on survival mode—not want mode. And number three—I always bagged the best deer before anyone else had a chance. Thank God for the forest being my backyard." She said the last number with a grin on her face. "I guess I was different than everyone else, and they didn't like me for it."

I wondered what she meant about having to put food on the table and a roof over their head. That was something parents did; even if her dad had died, she still had her mom, right? "Did bother you? Knowing that no one liked you?"

She points her finger at my face as she smirks, "Now that's not the right question, is it?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

She smiles a crinkly-eyed smile at me, "No, 'tis not."

Smiling back easily I say, "Then please, oh wise Gandhi, enlighten me."

"Gladly, young grasshopper. I was hated by people _I_ hated in a place I also hated. 'Can you really feel the hate' is the correct question to start with."

Man, that's pretty deep.

"And, to tell you the answer, no, I could not feel the hate. The feeling was like watching a movie and seeing the main character get stabbed. You see it happen; you sharply inhale your breath; you grab your stomach or wherever the character gets stabbed; you say 'ouch,' you tense your muscles up. But, did you really get stabbed? No, you saw it and reacted to it, but you didn't really get stabbed. That's how it is. So no, I did not feel the hate."

I'm at a loss for words. If I thought she was thoughtful before, this definitely tops the metaphorical cake. Her intelligence is not at all surprising, but it is still shocking to hear something so deeply thought about flow from her mouth as if it was no big deal. "Wow," I can't help but to stare into her magnetic gray eyes.

"'Wow' what?"

"That was really impressive. You, just going all deep and philosophical on me."

She blushes and looks away, "It wasn't _that_ impressive. But now you can ask your original question."

"Okay, then, did it bother you? Knowing that no one liked you?"

"No because I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel their hate, so it never bothered me. I was practically invincible; no one could touch me."

"I wish I had been like that. I was really preoccupied with what people thought of me… but now for the biggest question of them all. What are you supposed to be?"

She flushes and laughs but I continue on, "Are you Catwoman? Or I guess Catwoman with a K—Katwoman. You know, since your name is Kat?"

She laughs harder, "No, but that's good. I'm actually fire."

I cock my head to the side and raise an eyebrow, "I'm s-sorry? Fire?"

More laughter and she graces me with one of my favorite smiles—the crinkly-eyed ones, "Yes indeed, fire."

"But your costume is all black…? Fire isn't all black…" I'm sure my confusion is evident on my face.

"I was getting there, but first, do you have a match?"

A match? "A match? Sure."

We walked to the kitchen, and I pull open a drawer to reveal a box of matches. Handing her the box, I raise an eyebrow.

"You'll see; be patient." She pulls out a match and twirls it around in her fingers. "My friend Cinna lent me this costume; he said it matched my personality too well."

I'm thinking about what she said when she strikes the match on the box.

I'm about to reply when she holds the match to her stomach.

I'm about to ask her what the hell she's doing when she bursts into flame.

That's when the screaming starts.


	5. Chapter 5: The Fighter

**A/N: Here's another chapter! I think this one is pretty light and fun. I have a **_**really**_** fun chapter planned for the future … so get ready.  
The song for this chapter is The Fighter by Gym Class Heroes.  
Happy Thanksgiving to all of my readers who celebrate it! I thought that on the day of giving thanks, I could give you guys the longest chapter so far!  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, read in general… enjoy!  
**

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters.  
**

Chapter 5: The Fighter

Peeta's POV

"_Oh, shit!_" I try to think around the panic, but it's proving to be difficult. "_Somebody grab a blanket from the back of the couch! Get some water-or something that's not alcohol!_"

I hear people screaming in fear, and someone is repeatedly yelling my name, but I'm focused on trying to put out the fire that is consuming Katniss' body.

"Katniss! Stop, drop, and roll! Come on!" I don't know how to get her on the floor without getting burnt myself. Just when I'm about to throw my own body on top of hers and roll her around on the ground myself, not caring about being burnt, a fiery hand latches onto my shoulder.

"Peeta! Look at me!"

To be honest, I'm afraid to look at her because all I can picture in my head is a face ravaged revulsive and unrecognizable by fire and burns. The sound of her calm voice is what makes me look up to her eyes.

I'm shocked to see that her face is fine—perfectly recognizable. Then I realize that my shoulder that has her hand on it isn't hurt either.

"Peeta, it's synthetic fire! _It's not real!_ Not real! Look, I'm fine. I promise I'm not hurt. If you tackle me and force me to the floor, smother me in a blanket, or dump water on me like you're about to,_ I_ will be the one hurting _you_. The fire is supposed to look real! Touch it if you don't believe me."

I look at her, and she's absolutely right; she's fine. If what she's saying about the fire is true, then whoever made the fire is a true artist because this fire looks real. "I believe you." I look around my apartment to where everyone is still freaking out, "_Everybody calm down. It's not a real fire! _I'm sorry for scaring you all." I look back to Katniss who's trying to hide a smile, "Can I still touch it?"

"Yeah, go for it." She looks in my eyes and quietly says, "I can tell you're still scared, but it only tickles—I swear."

I hesitantly reach my hand toward the fire on her shoulder. I look to her eyes one last time before I slide my hand into the fire. Nodding her head encouragingly, she tips her head to give me the okay.

She didn't lie to me. The fire tickles my fingertips, and I slide more of hand into the synthetic flames. I chuckle at the feeling and look at her. She raises her eyebrows and smiles at me—a crinkly-eyed smile.

"Your friend is really talented. These flames react to air the same way real flames would. It seems so real," I say quietly sliding my hand around the flames on her body, creating wind.

"I know. When he showed it to me the first time—when I was_ wearing it_—I screamed and did exactly what you going to do. I was rolling on the floor screaming as he tried to convince me the fire was fake. It was worse because I'm so used to being on fire and not feeling the heat of it."

I was listening intently to her story and even laughing when she said she reacted like I did, but her last sentence threw me for a loop. "What do you mean your 'used to being on fire?'" Was she making a joke about her physical attractiveness—how she is smoking hot (some might even say 'on fire')

She laughs at first when I ask this but decides to explain, "I'm a firefighter; that's my job. I guess I forgot to mention that. Must have been a little confusing to you, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine. I was just surprised at that. Not everyone is used to being on fire and I couldn't think of a way to justify that in my head," I laugh. Now it makes sense—that she's used to being on fire.

She's given me another piece of herself to think about. She's a female firefighter. I know women can be firefighters, but I've never seen one in real life. That must be why her body is so toned.

"Did I see a fire a minute ago?"

Katniss turns and smiles at Thresh. "Yeah, I brought it just for you!"

I speak up, "You two know each other?"

Katniss smiles widely at me, "Oh yeah, we know each other _real_ well. We used to date," she turns to Thresh, "Right, Thresh?"

His eyes widen, especially when she leans in and places both of her hands on his face with her thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. She leans in on her tip-toes to whisper something in his ear. He chuckles as she pulls away, going flat footed and looking up at him through her thick, long, and black lashes. She's biting her lip; she looks gorgeous, and I will my body not to react.

She takes one hand and moves it to Thresh's hip while the other trails a finger slowly over his lips down his chest to his stomach when she pauses and says, "We used to have a lot of fun, didn't we?"

I can't believe she's doing this in front of me. I really like her and here she is having eye-sex with a dude in front of me at my party. Just before I turn to leave, she starts to trail her hand lower. Then they burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," she says patting Thresh's shoulder, "I couldn't do it anymore."

"Do what?" I ask, "Grope a man in my living room anymore?"

Thresh turns to me, "She was joking Peeta. We never dated. To me, Katniss is just one of the guys, though she's lacking in one area."

Katniss gasps and grasps at her breasts, though she wears a knowing smile, "How rude! And I thought with all of you guys' jokes about them at the fire station were because you liked them."

Thresh rolls his eyes, "Shut the hell up, Katniss. You know very well that I was just saying you don't have a dick."

Katniss laughs her musical laugh, "Yeah, I know," she turns back to me, "Thresh and I work at the same fire station."

"That's awesome! You're both firefighters? That's what every kid dreams of being! I even dreamed of it once. But I always knew what I'd end up doing," I pause and look to Katniss, "Why did you end up as a firefighter?"

She looks from my eyes to the floor, seemingly uncomfortable. Thresh looks away too. He makes a lame excuse of having to go to the bathroom and leaves. After my question Katniss seems closed off. "Well, that's a long story. One that's best saved for later… what do you do?"

"I'm a baker."

She immediately looks up at that. She raises her eyebrows and smiles at me—another crinkly-eyed smile. She laughs and asks, "No, really what do you do?"

I smile back widely and chuckle at her disbelief, "Honest to God, I'm a baker. I manage my father's bakery; it runs in the family. I've been working there since I was a kid. His refusal to retire is the only reason that I don't own the place."

She seems amused with what I've said and is smiling widely.

"What?" I ask. "What's with the creeper smile?" I ask while gesturing vaguely to her face.

"I'm trying to imagine you at a bakery. All I can picture is you dancing around a little shop throwing glitter and skipping and smiling and twirling around and smiling some more. I'm trying really hard not to laugh."

"Well, you haven't tried my cheese buns yet. And why is it so hard to picture me as a baker?"

"No, I most certainly have not tried your cheese _buns_," she chuckles as I blush, "And it's hard to see you as baker because look at you! You've got a massive body—not in a bad way—just broad shoulders and big arms. And your hands! They're huge! It's difficult to picture your huge hands doing delicate things, like handling cookies and frosting them."

"I frost all the cookies and decorate all the cakes. Minute details and all."

"That's hard to believe."

"Come by Mellarks' Bakery, and I'll let you come in the kitchen, so I can prove to you that it is indeed me who does all the hard work."

"I might take you up on that sometime… wait! Mellarks' Bakery?" She continues when I nod my head, "My sister loves that place! She raves about it _all the time_. She has actually dreamed about your pastries. Not kidding. I heard mumbling something about a raspberry Danish something in her sleep. Every time she tries to take me there I'm busy. She can go on and on and _on_ about this sweet, blue-eyed, blond guy who works the front counter and his smile and his deep voice and his curls and his freckle and how cute he looks when he's covered in flour and…" she trails off when she sees my million watt smile, "And oh shit that's you… she talks about you… this is awkward, and I'm gonna stop now."

"Nah, you can go ahead and tell me more about this 'sweet, blue-eyed, blond guy' who Prim thinks is cute and makes a mean Danish."

"Nope, that's all I'm going to say about that. Prim would die if I told you more. She's the kindest person I know and has the oldest soul. You can't help but love her, but she gets embarrassed pretty easily."

"Prim get embarrassed easily? That's hard to believe."

"Yeah, I know. She's usually confident, but sometimes things just claw at her and bother her mind to no end. How well do you know her?"

"Not too well- I didn't know she had a sister," This gets a smile from Katniss, "Her visits to the bakery are where we met; the only time I see her is at the bakery. She has been note-worthy ever since she first walked in. She squealed because she saw a primrose iced on a cookie and won my father over with a smile. My dad probably loves her like his own daughter. Now that I think about it, Prim has mentioned having a sister before. I would never have suspected you at a first glance, but looking closer," I lean in towards her, "You two have the same eye shape, nose, and dusting of freckles," I can't stop my finger from trailing over the freckles as I speak because I love the electric feel it gives me. Her eyes flutter closed at my touch.

"Go out with me," I can't stop the words from escaping my mouth. Once they're out, my eyes go wide with surprise. "Please," I tack on to the end.

She smiles at me like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland when she opens her eyes. "You've got some spunk, like a nervous type of spunk, though. Timid bravery. It's cute; I like it."

A slow smile takes over my face. _She thinks I'm cute._

Just then Cato decides to walk up saying, "So Katniss, that was quite the spectacle you gave a min-"

In unison without looking from each other's eyes, Katniss and I say, "Fuck off, Cato."

Cato looks like he's going to say more but stalks off in the opposite direction.

Staring at each other for a while without talking, we hold each other's gazes intensely.

Katniss is the first to speak. "You're kinda like a squirrel, you know that?"

Any smile I had before is gone and replaced by a frown. "How so?"

"Well, squirrels have the bravery to run in front of a car. They make to the middle of the street, but once they get there, they don't know what to do and end up freaking the fuck out."

"Um, okay, I guess that is pretty accurate then."

"Alright then, since you don't know what to do, let me think for you. We'll go out, but plan it. Give me a day or so to think, but I'll text you to let you know the details. I have something in mind for you, but I need to okay it first."

By the time she's done talking, I'm grinning like an idiot. I'm also wondering what good I've done in the world to have Karma bring this fantastic luck around to me, but I'm not dwelling on it. "Okay. Just let me know and we'll do it." I blush at my choice of words, and I see her raise her eyebrows and smile, but I continue on, "I have to work every other day this week starting tomorrow, so every other day works for me."

"Fantastic because I'm off for the next few days anyways. I need something to keep me busy," she smiles once more, "Looks like I've got some planning to do. I'm going to head out. Let's go, Gale."

I hadn't even noticed him standing there. Gale's tottering on his feet, continuously swaying, and I know that he's had more than his fair share to drink.

"Are you okay to drive? Do I need to call a cab? Or help you walk him down the steps?" I ask her before she turns away.

"Nah, I've only had one beer, and Sexy Coal Miner over here is drunk but I can manage it alone."

Gale jumps in to defend himself, but he's slurring so bad that I almost can't understand him, "Look, Catnip, I'm not super drunk. I-I could walk by myself- to the car. I'll sh-show you when we get to the stairs. I can do it all myself."

"Uh-huh, Gale, I'm sure," she rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around his waist. "Let's go."

As they walk to the door, Gale turns to me and winks with a content smile and drooping eye lids, "You're either gonna have a lot of fun with Catnip or she'll make you run for the hills and hide. It's one or the other—black or white—no gray area. So, good luck man."


	6. Chapter 6: Demons

**A/N: This chapter's song is Demons by Imagine Dragons. I absolutely love this song- it's one of my favorites (but really you guys should listen to every song listed in this chapter- they're all fantastic).**

**Also, a **_**huge**_** thank you goes out to ****xMissBee120x for pointing out a massive plot screw up I had forgotten about. In the first chapter, I introduced Peeta and Prim as strangers and in the previous chapter, they miraculously knew each other. I went back and fixed those two chapters, so if anyone is interested in seeing the revisions check it out. The changes aren't too monumental, but still—they're there. Any problems, PM me. I don't bite; I swear.**

**To make up for my mistake, I have written this long chapter for you guys! Enjoy it!  
**

**As always, thanks goes out to all my reviewers. I appreciate every single one of them! Also thank you to every follower and favoriter!**

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters.**

Chapter 6: Demons

Peeta's POV

Pacing is the only way to preoccupy myself.

It's not working too well.

I'm nervous to say the least. I've fixed my un-fixable hair more times than I can count; I've checked the cheese buns I packed to make sure they're not being squished probably a dozen times; I've looked in the mirror and disapproved of my outfit several times, but as soon as I'm about to change it, I start to like it.

She did say to wear casual clothes in layers and tennis shoes and to bring and extra pair of clothes. She won't tell me what we're doing, but if we need another set of clothes, I can only imagine that we're going to get dirty or sweaty or both.

And she told me to pack food, specifically cheese buns. I've put other bakery foods in the bag as well, but she only asked for cheese buns.

I check my watch again. Eleven AM. She said she'd be here by now.

Just as the thought runs through my head, my phone chimes in my pocket.

_Let's go, Squirrel_, Katniss texted me, _I'm outside._

That's another thing that makes me nervous; she insists on calling me 'Squirrel' now. I won't stop her, but it seems like she wants me to be squirrely enough to give up and walk away. I won't though. I refuse to give up because I want to know her. I have to know her. I want to be in a relationship with her.

I grab everything I need and head out the door. I pass an elderly woman in the door that leads outside, so while I say hello to the lady and hold the door open for her, I fail to see what Katniss is waiting for me in. When I finally look her way, the smile drops from my face immediately.

The driver's side door is closest to—that is if her car had doors. She's sitting in a Jeep that has the doors taken off and the soft top off. It has an exposed roll bar and clay smeared all over the sides of the Jeep. Actually there's clay and mud covering the entire Jeep. I don't think I can tell what color it really is. Black? Red, maybe?

She smiles broadly at my reaction and lowers her aviators down the bridge of nose to pear over them. "What? Is my baby not what you were expecting?"

"Not really, I was thinking something more along the lines of- well anything that had doors really."

She laughs and smiles, but I can't tell if it's a crinkly-eyed smile because of her sunglasses. "Come on, Squirrel! It's a nice day outside! Who needs doors?"

"Well, not me, I guess. At least for today."

"That's the spirit! Now get in. Just throw your stuff in the back."

I climb in and as soon as my things are settled in the backseat, she hits the gas.

She drives faster than I do, and she takes more risks than I would. Her driving is quite frightening, but I'm determined to keep quiet. It's all worth it when she turns on the radio and sings along quietly along.

She suddenly looks to me quickly and asks loudly over the wind when she turns back to the road, "What kind of music do you like? Rock, blues, pop?"

I try to think of my favorite songs but end up laughing, "All of it, honestly."

She turns her face to me and raises an eyebrow, "Rap?"

Her eyes not being on the road is the scariest thing I've seen in months, so I hesitantly reach a hand out and slowly guide her face back to facing the front. After she chuckles at my actions, I answer, "I don't like very many rap songs, but growing up with two older brothers, I heard a lot of rap that I didn't like. I don't need to hear about how voluptuous a stripper's ass is."

She laughs, "I agree completely."

Looking at her radio, I see that she has a phone hookup. "I can show you what kind of music I like if I can hook up my phone."

Nodding, she gestures towards the hookup, "Go for it."

After my phone is plugged in, I run through my list of music. I don't know what she likes, so I don't know if what I pick will impress her.

I'm about to take a leap of faith and click play when her voice rings out, "Choose wisely, Squirrel."

I'm confident in my choice, so I hit play. Demons by Imagine Dragons starts playing in the Jeep. I intently watch Katniss' face for signs of approval or dissatisfaction.

At first nothing happens. She doesn't react. But then, right before my face fails because I've failed her 'test,' she cracks a smile. It's a small half-smile where only one side of her mouth turns up, but I'll take it. It's better than a frown.

Only looking at me for a second, she flashes a bigger smile—one that I think would be a crinkly-eyed smile if she wasn't wearing sunglasses. "Oh, good choice. I'm impressed."

I exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thank God," I say quietly but continue louder, "I thought you'd like it."

"I do like it… Do you sing, Squirrel?"

Laughing loudly, I shake my head, "No, if I did, I would sound like a dying squirrel. I leave the singing to you. You're much better at it."

She laughs and raises an eyebrow, "How do you know I'm any better than you?"

My face reddens, "I, uh, heard you singing the night we met. When you guys pulled up in Gale's truck, you were all singing. You have the most beautiful voice I've ever heard. I swear that I had to pick my jaw off the ground when Vick and the rest of you walked up to me."

Now she blushes, "I'm not that good. My dad was, though. I swear, when he sang, all the birds stopped their songs, so they could listen to his."

I vaguely remember thinking the same thing when I first saw her. "They do for you to. When you pulled up, every bird stopped its song and listened to yours."

She snorts, "No, they stopped because they heard Gale's ancient truck and were scared that some roaring monster was after them."

"You're too modest."

She shrugs and we listen to the rest of the song in silence, both of us bobbing our heads to the beat.

As I'm choosing a new song, I ask, "Are you going to tell me what we're doing today? Are we going far?"

"Nah, where we're going is only about fifteen to twenty minutes outside of the city—traffic permitting."

"And where are we going?"

She laughs, "Patience, Squirrel."

We chat a little as I play Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons, In the End by Linkin Park, and You Need Me, I Don't Need You by Ed Sheeran. I find out that she is one year older than me, twenty two, and that her sister is seventeen about to be eighteen—like Rory. She is also an avid outdoors type woman. She sings to some of the songs, throwing any hesitance to show her voice to me out the window. She sings loudly and with her whole heart poured into the words she so beautifully crafts. I decide that I've never had a better car ride.

When I start getting restless because the city has started to turn to farmland, she grins at me and says we've arrived.

I look around and don't know what she's talking about. We are in the middle of nowhere; I don't see anything except some woods and a broken down fence. Then I see she's pulling onto a gravel driveway that is hidden in the trees.

The driveway winds through the forest and doesn't show signs of ending when suddenly we burst into a clearing. A house sits in the clearing and I'm in awe. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. There's not much to the actual house; it's a small log cabin, but it looks like home. There's something that draws me to it—whether it's the smoke curling from the chimney or the primroses surrounding the house or the little pond off to the side with lily pads and white flowers with purple centers in the pond—I don't know. It's a magical place.

"Wow," I say to Katniss without looking away from the clearing, "This place is amazing. What is it?"

She chuckles quietly, "Thank you, it's the house I grew up in. My mother and sister live here."

This pulls me out of my reverie, and I look at her. "What?"

She laughs at my surprised expression, "Don't worry. We're just parking here and saying hello to Prim before leaving again on foot. That's one of the reasons you have tennis shoes on. Come on."

She gets out and I follow her to the door. She walks in without preamble and calls out for her sister. Within seconds I hear feet hit the hardwood floors in the back of the house and start running. Two sets of feet actually. Before I can dwell on it, Prim bursts into the living room we're in and flings herself into Katniss' arms. I'm too busy watching the spectacle with a grin on my face that I didn't notice who- or what came into the room with Prim.

All of the sudden I feel a wetness on my hand, and I look down into the coppery eyes of a dog. It's a pretty dog and one glance tells me it's a boy. He jumps on me and puts his head on my shoulder and licks my ear. He is white with black spots- or black with white spots. He has some gray on his body and one big chocolate brown spot by his left hip. His head and floppy ears are chocolate brown too with a little bit of spots on his lips between his eyes. His tail is cut short—only as long as one and a half of my index finger.

I laugh as the dog continues to lick my ear when I pet him; it's my special spot. I hear Prim and Katniss join in my laughter, and when I turn they're watching me. I shrug and smile, continuing to scratch the dog's back.

"Diesel, come here, boy," Prim calls out to the dog and he immediately heeds her words, padding over to her side and sitting down. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, and he pants contentedly.

"Diesel?" I ask, "That's his name?"

Katniss laughs and nods, "Yeah because of his big spot," she points at the big brown spot on his side, "It looked like an oil stain, so we called him Diesel."

I laugh, "That makes sense. Oh, hi Prim."

Laughing and smiling she nods to me, "Hello, Peeta."

Katniss cuts in on the fun, "Hey, it's good to see you, Prim, but we have to head out to Haymitch's place. He has the keys I need, and we need to get there before he's too drunk to unlock his doors." She hugs Prim and grumbles, "I don't want to climb through the upstairs bathroom window like last time."

We're going to a drunk's house? It's Wednesday—not a typical drinking day of the week.

Prim laughs and waves to us, "Alright, I'll see you guys later."

We walk out of the house and into the woods on a worn path.

"Who's Haymitch?" I ask as we walk. I'm looking around, trying to take everything in. It's a wonderful view; Katniss is lucky to have grown up here.

"My uncle," is her simple reply.

"More family members?"

She chuckles, "Yes, but he'll probably pass out after letting us in. The walk to the door can be _very_ tiring."

I nod, and we walk in a comfortable silence for a while. I hear the birds singing in the trees and flying from branch to branch, their wings flapping.

Eventually we come into an overgrown clearing with a log cabin similar to the one we were just in. Nothing has been up kept—the grass is long, the windows dirty, the metal pipe of a chimney rusty.

"Let's go, Squirrel. I'll be quick." She knocks on the door and tries the knob. It's locked. She sighs, "Figures." She bangs on the door harder, "Come on, Haymitch! Get your ass up and open the door! Your favorite niece sent me to check for a pulse!"

Suddenly the door is flung open, and I stumble back a few steps. Thank God I'm standing behind Katniss, so she didn't see my reaction. I don't need to give her another reason to call me Squirrel.

The disheveled man behind the door speaks, and I smell alcohol like he has been bathing in it. "Little Primy sent you?"

Katniss laughs, "I knew that'd get you to open the door. And no, she didn't. I'm here for personal reasons-"

"Who's the blondie?" Haymitch interrupts. He's wearing what I think is supposed to be a white shirt—it reminds me of Katniss' Jeep—it's covered in so many stains that I can't see the original color.

"Hello, sir, I'm Peeta." I extend my hand to the man.

He looks at it and then at me as if sizing me up. I guess that he likes what he sees because he shakes my hand.

I see Katniss exhale in a huff and nod her head. She looks at me with eyebrow raised, her expression saying that she's impressed.

I raise my brows at her and then look back to Haymitch. He's swaying and holding onto the door in an attempt to stay upright.

Katniss walks in and wraps an arm around the disgusting man's waist, and I go to take his other side. Together we lead him to the couch and lay him down.

Katniss looks down and sighs, "Look, I just need the keys to The Twins. They're still in the bowl over the sink, right?"

Haymitch nods and rolls onto his side. Rolling her eyes, Katniss turns and walks into the kitchen.

I hear a cabinet open, something being taken out, keys jingling, and the cabinet slamming shut. She walks in grinning like a fiend, holding up the keys.

As we walk outside and head towards the back of the house, I ask, "Who are The Twins?"

She grins and turns to me, "Oh, all in good time, Squirrel. I'm banking that you're going to love The Twins just as much as I do."

We reach the edge of the woods, and Katniss pauses. She grabs a low hanging branch and throws it to the side, uncovering a hidden shed.

The Twins are in this shed? What the hell? They keep people locked up?

Smiling, she unlocks the doors and glances at me when she throws them open. Sunlight streams in and the dust settles.

I see that The Twins are not people but two four-wheelers that are only different in color. One green and one blue.

She turns to me and says, "Meet The Twins. The green one is my favorite."

I'm sure my face looks extremely shocked when I turn to her. "This is what we're doing?"

Grinning—and I can see that it's a crinkly-eyed smile because her sunglasses are perched on the top of her head—she looks at me, "Yeah! Have you ever driven one before?"

I snort, "No, I've never even seen one in person before now."

"Okay, we can fix that," she climbs onto the green ATV and pats the seat behind her, "Come on, hop on the back. I'll show you the ropes."

I hesitate to swing my leg over the side, but she nods her head at me, so I sit down behind her.

She looks like she's about to turn on the ATV, but she pauses and turns to me instead. "Look, I know that we just met and everything, but holding onto the back bars like you're doing right now is not the best way to do this. You're going to have to wrap your arms around my waist and squeeze, like you're hugging me from behind."

I raise my brows at her and she continues, "I know, okay, but that's how it's gonna happen. And I know you're a guy so this close proximity and rubbing and bouncing and friction with a girl is probably going to get you… excited, but, uh, try to control it, okay? I really don't need to feel your hard junk pressing into my back while I'm trying to drive and not kill us."

During her entire escapade, I could feel my face getting redder and redder. She's probably right—it will most likely get me 'excited.' I'm horrified and glad she brought it up, so I can prepare myself.

She nods, pleased with her speech and starts the four-wheeler. She shifts into gear and tests the gas, and we're good to go. She looks back at me and raises her eyebrows. "Now would be a good time to hold on."

"Oh-kay," I stumble out and wrap my arms around her waist. She's really warm, and I love having my hands on her. The spark of electricity is present again.

"Hang on, Squirrel. This is going to be the ride of your life," she grins and guns the throttle, and we're off.

I don't doubt her for a second.


	7. Chapter 7: Me and Bobby McGee

**A/N: Sorry that it has been so long since my last update! This is a long chapter though, so… we okay?**

**This chapter's song is Me and Bobby McGee by Janis Joplin. I grew up on this song, so it means a lot to me. My mother is from Louisiana, and she played this song an ungodly number of times when I was younger. I'm only sixteen, so this song is definitely not one anyone my age would commonly know. I doubt any peers at school could tell me who Janis Joplin is. I'm rambling and I'll stop now.**

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters. I also do not own any lyrics to Me and Bobby McGee.**

Chapter 7: Me and Bobby McGee

"Are you scared?"

Katniss throws this over her shoulder with a grin as we speed through the forest, narrowly missing trees on the beaten down path.

"No, I trust you to not kill us," I insist loudly in her ear, so I can be heard over the wind.

"Did I ever mention the scar that goes all the way across my back that I got last year…? Let's just say it _wasn't_ from me hitting a jump at thirty miles an hour, landing on two wheels, and flipping this thing over on top of a rock…"

"_What?!_" I yell into her ear. I heartbeat increases to a deathly pace and my breathing hitches. Is she going to kill us?

"Kidding, Mellark! I've never gotten into an accident before. There's no scar on my back. Not real."

"Thank Jesus, I was about to abandon ship. 'Tuck and roll' was going to become my new motto."

"Do that and you'll have a mouthful of mud," she cackles and slows down considerably. I assume that she's trying to prevent us from untimely deaths. "Gale did that once when I was driving. He saw the jump I built in front of the dried up creek bed and screamed like a little girl," she laughs even harder, "I still call him out on it."

"Did you go through with it? The jump?"

"Hells yeah! I didn't spend an entire afternoon building it for no reason. I left Gale behind and hit the jump and sailed right to the other side of the creek. Fuckin' awesome until my dad found it. He demolished it and grounded me for a week," she pauses and peeks her head up a little, "Do you see that? Through the trees there."

"See what?" I ask as I peek over her shoulder and attempt to look where her eyes are peering.

"The jump around the bend," she smirks when she glances over her shoulder and sees my wide eyes, "What can I say? I'm a rebel and built it back. It was too much fun. Hold on tight; I've never attempted it with two people before because Gale's a wimp. You almost double the weight."

I tighten my arms around her waist as she speeds up faster than what we were going before. "Is that a fat joke?"

She chuckles, "No that's pointing out your muscles that are squeezing the air out of my lungs."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," I say as I attempt to loosen my hold on her.

She takes her hand that isn't pressing the gas all the way forward and sets it on my arms, stopping my movements. "No, you're going to have to hold on like that, or you'll fall and break your face. It's okay; I really don't mind having a man's delectable arms wrapped around my body, pressing our bodies together, so I can feel every chiseled muscle in his eight-pack and his semi-hard dick."

Well, if I wasn't hard before, I am now. And if I'm being honest, "I like it too. A lot." Did I say that out loud?

Katniss chortles, "Yes, I can tell."

I blush but know she can't see it. Feeling her body tense, I pull my attention away from the trees on the side of the path and look over her shoulder again.

Then I wish I hadn't.

We're going at a dangerous speed right towards a ravine. I can see the jump, but I don't know if we can make it across the gap just by that little thing.

Katniss hollers and impossibly pushes us faster. I squeeze my eyes and prepare for the impact.

Then next thing I feel is weightlessness. Exhilarated and scared, I open my eyes.

We're flying. Somehow we sail through the trees, and I grit my teeth, so I won't scream in Katniss' ear. I squeeze her waist so hard that I'm afraid I might break her in half. I see the draw of it though. Behind the fear is euphoria and elation. Even though the fact scares me, I know that I want to do it again.

She yelps as we crash back down to the ground, and I give a whoop. After laughing manically at the expression on my face—a mixture of fear and adrenaline, she slows down substantially to take in her surroundings. I look around too and notice that we are in a colossal clearing—a clearing that a Wal-Mart could fit in.

I'm the first to speak, "This is amazing. How could a gigantic meadow like this be in the middle of such a tightly packed forest?"

"I don't know. But this will be the perfect place to teach you to drive."

I gulp, "Are you sure I should drive?"

"Of course you should! This may be your only chance to try. Why not take advantage of it?"

She's making sense. "Yeah, all right," I nod my head, "Let's do it. Teach me to drive."

She smiles widely at me and says, "M'kay, but you're going to have to sit behind me and look over my shoulders because you're built like an ox, and there's no way I can see anything to teach you if you sit in front of me."

"Fine with me."

"Okay, put your hands on the handle bar."

When I grasp the handles, she turns the key and the ATV turns off but the dashboard stays lit up.

"I don't want to risk you doing a wheelie the first time you press the gas," she explains when she sees my raised eyebrows.

"All right, now what?"

"This right here is the throttle—the gas pedal," she points to a little black lever-like thing under the right handle that has is as wide as my thumb but not as long, "Press it lightly at first- like a car- then you can press harder.

"Don't jerk the handle bars—even if you need to do a fast turn—you'll end up putting us on two wheels, and if we're unlucky enough, you'll actually flip us."

My eyes widen, and I start to get more apprehensive about driving. She made it look easy, but if one quick movement could kill us, I didn't want to risk it.

She's about to go on with the lesson when she looks at my face and sees my nervousness. She sighs, "That's only when you're going fast, okay? You won't be going fast at first so don't freak out on me," she gestures to my left hand and continues explaining how to drive, "This is where it gets to be like a stick shift car but without the stick. These buttons over here," she points to two, big, square buttons. One is an arrow pointing down, and the button on top of it points upwards. "These are your gear shifts. The top one shifts up so you can go faster and the bottom one shifts down so you can go slower. There is 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. The number you are on will show up here," she points to the middle of the screen on the dashboard, "Right now we're in Neutral—that's why the green light is flashing, but you can hit the up button to put us in gear."

I do as she says, and the 'N' on the screen changes to a '1.'

"Good," she laughs, "Now slowly press the throttle forward. Since the ATV isn't on, we won't move, but I want you to get a feel."

Again I listen to her directions, and she smiles.

"Okay, this is the most important thing I'll tell you, so listen up," she turns her head to look me square in the eyes, "You_ cannot_ hit one of the shifter buttons at the same time you press on the throttle. If you do, you will grind the gears, and this is my baby, so _if_ you grind its gears, I will punch you in the throat. Clear?"

I gulp as I stare into her intense gray orbs because I know that she has every intention of carry out her threat if I do something wrong. "Yeah, clear."

She smiles a crinkly-eyed smile. She likes seeing me squirm. Reaching for my hands, Katniss says, "This is how you shift. You press on the gas and when you need to shift gears, you ease off completely and then hit a button. As soon as you hear the click of the gears finishing changing, you can hit the gas again.

"And now for the brakes, you just squeeze these metal bars. It's exactly like riding a mountain bike. The right handle brake is more severe than the left, while the foot brake by your right foot isn't quite as strong as either. If you're in a dire emergency, use all three. You'll stop faster than you can say, 'Holy shit.'"

"Good to know."

"All right let's go. Turn the key to the right and press that black button."

I start the ATV, and await further instructions.

"What gear are you in?" she asks.

I nudge her head out of the way with my chin, so I can see. "Um, neutral."

"Switch to first."

I hit the up arrow and change to first.

"Hit the gas—slowly."

I lightly press on the gas and we move forward in a little jerk that slams my front into her back. The friction and proximity are not helping my situation.

"Uh, I forgot to mention that ATVs don't keep going like cars, huh? You have to keep pressure on the gas because they don't really keep rolling like a car would. Try again."

I keep the pressure on the gas and we move forward again. When I get to about five miles per hour, Katniss says, "Shift up a gear."

I let go of the gas, and we immediately begin to slow, but I hit the up arrow anyway. As soon as I'm sure the ATV is done shifting, I hit the gas again.

We're going a little faster now, and Katniss starts throwing out random instructions, "Turn left," "Slow down," "Turn left," "Slow down," "Speed up," "Turn right." Finally she tells me to stop, and I'm pleased with my progress until she throws the curveball.

"Reverse."

She never taught me to reverse. There is no reverse button. I'm in neutral, so I hit the down arrow to see if reverse is below it. I feel Katniss shake her head against my chest as the ATV stays in neutral and reveals my failure.

I look at the handlebars and know this is a test I need to pass. Passing means that I'll impress her, so I have to figure it out on my own.

In my search of the handlebars, a speck of red catches my eye. I lean forward to inspect it, taking Katniss' body with mine. On the handle next to my left hand—not on the panel with the other buttons—is a little red button the size of my pinkie fingernail.

I press the button down with my thumb, but nothing happens. Wondering if the button is broken, I frown.

Then a thought strikes me.

I hold the button down and hit the down arrow. As soon as I do, the ATV jolts into the gear and the dashboard light changes from green meaning neutral to red which I assume is reverse. I see an 'R' in place of the 'N' and know that I have passed the test. I cracked the code.

I lightly hit the gas, and the ATV moves backwards. Letting out a successful whoop and thrusting a fist into the air, I turn to Katniss.

She looks impressed and raises her eyebrows at me. "You sure you've never driven before? Because that was remarkable. I've never seen anyone figure it out without being told what to do."

"First time ever, I swear."

"All right then, let's go back and pick up Blue Twin for you. You're ready to go off on your own."

"Do you want to drive? Because I refuse to try and tackle the jump on top of all this."

Throwing her head back, she laughs loudly. "There's a way to get back without having to jump the creek. Trade seats with me."

I get off and she slides back, so I can get on in the front. She points out the trail to take and I drive that way. Her arms wrap around my waist as I drive faster. I don't drive as fast and reckless as she did, but I let go a little.

When we stop outside the shed, she sends me inside by myself to get the Blue Twin. This ATV is exactly like the other one, so I easily crank it up and pull it out.

The first thing I notice is that Katniss has completely turned her ATV around and is facing a new trail. The second thing I notice is her grinning at me like a fiend. The third thing I notice is that she is conveniently parked on the edge of a mud puddle.

That's the last thing I notice before she guns her ATV and speeds off, flinging mud all over me.

As I wipe the mud from my face with a quiet curse, she yells back to me, "Catch me if you can!"

Another test I _have_ to pass. I quickly forget about the muddy mess and peel out. I shift as quickly as I can, the feeling of it still a little foreign to my inexperienced hands.

This path is straighter than the others, so I can get moving faster more quickly. I go swifter than I ever have and feel triumphant. The roar of the wind is loud in my ears and cuts off every other sound.

A few seconds pass and when I turn a small curve, I see Katniss ahead of me. I'm so preoccupied with trying to catch up to her that I don't pause to ponder why Katniss stands from her seat and slightly bends her knees.

I pay gravely for this; we hit a bumpy patch of land, and my dick is smashed into the seat of the four-wheeler. When cry out in pain, I assume Katniss hears because she glances back quickly and grins at me. Hurriedly, I copy her position to protect my body from more damage.

By now I'm almost to her. A few more feet forward, and I'd be bumper to bumper with her. Another quick glance over her shoulder to assess the situation, and she's off again—speeding further away.

I push on and after one more speed bump that puts me a foot off the ground, we're home free. The path here is open and flat; this is the perfect place to race.

Pressing the gas as far as it will go, I speed toward the girl who has been eluding me. I get impossibly close, and I think that maybe Katniss has one more trick to pull on me. But she doesn't, and I can tell by the way she looks over at me in surprise. She never expected me to catch up to her, but I did.

Now she's smiling, and I take the opportunity to pass her—becoming the hunted instead of the hunter. I lead us until we almost run into a dead end.

By then we've slowed considerably, and Katniss calls out to me while jabbing a thumb towards the woods, "Park it, Mellark. I have a place I want to show you."

I follow her into the woods after parking, and we walk together on a narrow path that shows signs of wear. A comfortable silence stretches on between us as I carefully take in all of my surroundings. This forest is definitely one of the most amazing places I've ever been and I don't want to forget it.

I see a particular oddly shaped tree that I am smitten with. If I had anything to write on, I would be sketching fiercely, but all I have in my backpack is the extra clothes and food Katniss had me bring, along with Katniss' clothes that she asked me to shove in so we wouldn't have to take two different bags.

Katniss catches me staring at the tree and stops walking. "What's up?"

"I really like this tree. That one a little off the path. It's twisted and warped every direction with branches poking out everywhere. It looks like it has been through hell. I want to take a picture, but I left my phone in your Jeep."

"Here borrow mine. When I get service back, I'll send you the picture," she says, handing me her phone.

I snap a picture from the angle I want, being sure to catch the correct lighting I desire. Just to be sure I got a quality picture. I go to her phone's picture gallery. I can't help but notice that unlike every other female around our age, Katniss has very few pictures of herself. If there is one that she's in, another person is present in the picture too—like Prim, Gale, Thresh, or a guy with corkscrew orange curls. The bulk of her pictures are of Prim and abstract things like the woods or shadows or the sun peeking out over the crest of a ridge somewhere at dawn.

"Not one for pictures of yourself?" I question as we continue walking.

She's quiet for a minute before she mumbles, "I only take pictures of beautiful things… things worth remembering."

As soon as this confession escapes her mouth, my feet are frozen to the ground. I reach out and grasp her arm to stop her, and I turn her to face me.

"How could you ever say that?" I say softly and pause to reach out to lift her chin, so she'll look at me and not the ground, "You are stunning. Gorgeous. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. As radiant as the sun. Your singing wasn't the only reason my jaw went slack when I first saw you," she blushes at that, but I continue on, "I barely know you, but if I know anything about you, it's that you have more substance in your pinky finger than any other person I've ever met."

Katniss' blush gets a deeper shade of red, and she looks down, mumbling a thank you.

She turns to keep walking but stops and whirls back to me. She throws her arms around my neck in an unexpected hug and holds on tightly. I put my arms around her waist and relish the contact. Before she pulls away, she says as stronger thank you right to my ear and squeezes one last time.

I'm almost too stunned to start to walk after her, but she pulls on my hand to get me walking. She lets go of hand when we reach the path again, and immediately want the contact back.

I see light breaking through the trees and know we're getting close to our destination. When the trees become sparse and then none at all, I gasp loudly. This takes the cake.

There is no place that isn't magical here.

We are standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down upon acres and acres of woods, with a few breaks here and there for clearings—one for Katniss' family's cabin with smoke coming from the chimney and one for her uncle.

I can see everything and the sight takes my breath away. Looking to Katniss, I see her crinkly-eyed grin and know that this place is special to her.

As if reading my thoughts, she says, "This is my favorite place ever. My dad used to take me here. He said it made him feel like he had all the freedom in the world."

"Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose."

Katniss turns to me and cocks her head. "Is that- did you just- was that Janis Joplin lyrics?"

My face reddens as I nod, "Guilty. My dad always kept a radio on in the bakery—only older stations that played music like hers. I grew up with it, and after a while it stuck with me."

"You just earned yourself even more points, Mellark. I'm having a hard time keeping my tally straight."


	8. Chapter 8: What You Know

**A/N: The song for this chapter is What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club. I severely suggest you all listen to this song if you haven't before because the lyrics are fantastically perfect for this story.**

**Also, I apologize if there are a bunch of errors in this chapter. I'm super sick right now—so sick that I had to stay home all day. I'm also on a lot of medication, so who knows what sort of things I wrote in this chapter? If you have any issues, PM me, and I'll take care of it.**

Chapter 8: What You Know

I'm in a trance. I would stand looking out over the edge of this cliff forever if I could.

Katniss' growling stomach breaks me from my reverie.

"Sorry," she says quietly, "I haven't eaten anything since breakfast this morning, and now it is past two o'clock."

"No, I'm sorry," I pull off my pack and start taking out food, "Here, these are the cheese buns you requested. Along with a few other things I took from the bakery."

She walks over and takes the cheese buns immediately. "I have to see if you were telling the truth when you said you make the best cheese buns."

"Go for it."

As soon as she takes a bite, she moans in pleasure. I try not to get turned on by the noise, but it's proving difficult—so difficult that I have to look away from her face, where her eyes are shut and her head is tipped back in ecstasy.

After a minute, I look back to her and see that she's reaching for a second cheese bun.

Her eyes close again as she takes another bite. "You were right. How could I have doubted you? These are the best things I've tasted in my entire life."

"Thank you," I mumble to my feet, which I just noticed are caked in mud. Inspecting the rest of my clothes, I see that they aren't in a better condition. This must be why she had me bring a spare set of clothes. Katniss' clothes are just as dirty as mine, and she stands slowly chewing the last of her bread as she looks to the forest beyond the cliff.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"You're a really good baker."

"You implied that before."

"How did you know you wanted to be a baker?"

"Well, I grew up in the bakery; it was my second home. I loved being there because it meant I would be away from- well I could let go of everything there. I liked being able to focus intensely on icing the cakes or cookies. Being at the bakery was my release. I loved it so much, and my dad was always there. He's the best man I've ever known. And I figured that if I could be like him—even just a little with something as simple as occupation—then I would be all right."

"If it means anything to you, I think you're pretty great," Katniss says as she looks over with a sly smile.

"That means a lot to me actually, so thank you," I smile at her, "How did you know you wanted to be a firefighter?"

Her smile falls a bit, and then I realize why. That's almost the exact same question I asked at my party. The question that she didn't want to answer and avoided and I've brought it up again.

I instantly try to backpedal, "Hey, you don't have to answer th-"

"No," she shakes her head and swallows, "I want to."

I wait for her either to start or to back out.

After a minute of collection, she shakes her head and starts speaking with renewed vigor, "It's because of my dad—like you," she glances over at me, "He was a firefighter too. Up in New York. He died in the Twin Towers on 9/11 when I was eleven years old."

She stops and looks in the opposite direction of me while clenching her jaw. I hear her sniffle. I don't know what to say—what to do. I had suspected that her father was dead, but I had no way of knowing that he died on September 11, 2001.

Suddenly she turns back to me with fierce determination in her eyes, "He wasn't even supposed to go in that day," she sniffles again, "Uncle Haymitch was. Dad was covering for him."

She sees the surprise in my eyes and nods her head slowly. "Yeah, that's why he's a drunk. He blames himself and feels guilty every damn day," she pauses and looks away as she mumbles, "He's not the only one."

My feet move me closer without my knowledge. I know she's not a touchy-feely type girl, but I don't think that even Katniss would decline my hug right now.

Her body crumples into mine, and I can feel the sobs wracking through her as I say into her hair, "No, it's not your fault. You didn't do anything to cause that day to happen."

She trembles in my arms, "Yes, I did," she looks up at me with glassy gray eyes and a tear streaked face. "I was in a school play that year. I had the lead part, and we couldn't afford the costume, so Dad needed extra shifts. Haymitch thought he was doing us a favor by taking a sick day, so Dad would be called in for him. He had no idea what would happen."

She stops, and I know she's not done so I wait. When she starts again, her voice is low—so low that I pull her closer in my arms to hear. "The whole thing is so fucked up. I lived in that cabin with my parents until I was two or three with Haymitch next door. Haymitch isn't even really my uncle. He and my dad were best friends when they were kids, and I just called Haymitch my uncle. Then my dad got accepted into a fantastic school in New York because his voice was the most beautiful in the world. We moved up to New York and lived there. Prim was born up there, and my dad really needed a job. But when my dad graduated, and he tried to find a job where he would be singing, he got turned down everywhere because 'his look was all wrong for the part.' Using 'Plan B,' my dad became a firefighter because that's what his father had been, and he already had some training.

"Haymitch missed us, so he came up to visit, and of course, he found himself a lady—one of my mom's friends. They became serious quickly, so he packed up all his stuff in Georgia and moved up to New York with us. Haymitch had been a firefighter down in Georgia, so all he had to do was take a few tests so he could switch all his licenses and certifications to be legal in New York. He ended up getting a job in the same department as my dad.

"I still remember that day—being in school and hearing the news. I started crying on the spot because I knew my dad and the rest of his station would be one of the first people to respond. I ran from my classroom and found Prim. She was only six, so she didn't really get it, but she knew that if I was crying, something bad had happened. My mom came and got us, so we could wait at home for the news together. When we got to our apartment, Haymitch was already waiting for us. We waited in the living room for the phone call in silence. Well, we didn't talk but it was so loud outside. So many sirens and people yelling."

Tears have been flowing continuously down her cheeks during her story. Right now, she's looking into the woods unseeingly. I need to help her.

I reach up with one hand to wipe her tears as the other one stays wrapped around her slender waist. She finally looks up at me with an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry for dumping this on you. I've never done that before—told that to anyone. No one else has made me feel like I wouldn't be judged for sharing."

"I could never judge you for something that isn't your fault. You were given your lot in life; you didn't choose this path."

She buries her head in my chest and squeezes me tightly. "Thank you, Peeta." She looks up and her eyes smile at me, "You've earned quite a few points today."

"Well, I don't plan to stop earning them, so watch out."

She tells me that we should head back to the house, so we gather our stuff and head back to the ATVs.

"Are you okay to drive?" I ask her before we reach them.

"Yeah, I'm good."

I grasp her arm, "Thank you for showing me a place that is so special to you."

She looks at me with a small smile, "I didn't mind sharing it with someone who understands it's magic."

We're both smiling as we drive away.

We park in the shed and walk back to the house in relative silence, only making passing comments to each other. After we break through the trees that lead to her family's cabin, she stops and turns to me.

"We can't go in with our muddy clothes. Prim would have a heart attack. She cleans the place spotless everyday.," she points to my backpack, "We need to change."

I pull out our clothes and to my surprise, Katniss starts pulling her boots off right then and there. "Does she really?" When I hand Katniss her clothes, she nods and sets them on the ground and reaches for her belt.

"What are you doing?" I ask with wide eyes.

"Changing," she says without looking at me, unbuttoning her pants and sliding them down her legs.

I try not to stare, but I can't help it. Her legs are long and tan and smooth and muscular and perfect. She's wearing fire engine red, lacy underwear. My eyes flick up to her face once she starts putting her new pair of jeans on, and I almost yelp when I see her staring at me

'p[; with an eyebrow raised.

"Um, sorry," I mutter as I turn away.

She just laughs and asks, "Are you going to let me be a stripper all by myself?"

"Oh! Uh, no," I stumble over the words as I start to take my shirt off.

As I bend down to grab my clean shirt, Katniss' socked feet appear at the edge of my vision. I start when I feel her hand ghost over my shoulders.

She's staring at my shoulders when I look up. "You have so many freckles," she says as she drags her hands over my shoulders.

"Yeah, so do you," I point out as I run a finger over the freckles on her cheekbones and nose—just like I did at the party.

Her eyes drift closed again and she says, "Not as many as you." And it's true. I have freckles covering every inch of my shoulders and some on my back. Even though I was shirtless at my party, she couldn't see them because I was covered in paint.

It's at this point that I realize she's shirtless. Her red, lacy bra matches her panties. I pull my eyes back up to her face to catch her staring at my chest and stomach. Since she's staring at me, I quick peek at her again. Her stomach has the starting of a six-pack, and it's incredibly sexy. I want to reach out and touch it—to feel how hard it is, but I know that would be crossing a line. I had no idea that being a firefighter would put her in such good shape. I can see a few ribs, but it's not because she doesn't eat, it's because she literally has zero body fat.

At the same time, we look up into each other's eyes. It breaks us from our reverie, and both of our cheeks flush because we've caught each checking the other out. She turns away to pull on a white tank top and a blue flannel shirt on top—unbuttoned—which I also find incredibly sexy because the tank top hugs her every curve and shows off her taut body. I quickly put my shirt and clean jeans on.

"Ready?" she asks, pointing to the back door.

"Yup."

When we walk inside, I hear Prim singing. She's not bad, but I still prefer Katniss' voice. As we walk into the kitchen, I see Prim standing with her back to us and one headphone in her right ear. She's wiping the counter down with a rag, bobbing her head to the music.

Katniss silently catches my attention and puts a hand up, telling me to stay put. I see the mischievous smile on her face, but I don't know what she plans to do.

She creeps over to Prim on silent feet. She makes no noise as she stops behind Prim. Leaning in to the ear that doesn't have a headphone in it, she says in an entirely accurate rendition of Jigsaw's voice, "I want to play a game." Then quickly wraps her arms around Prim's middle and squeezes.

Prim shrieks so loudly that my eardrums might burst. She elbows Katniss in the stomach and whirls around once she is free of Katniss' arms.

"God damn you, Katniss! I was about to punch you in the face! Why do you have to be such a bitch? You know I'm scared of movies like that."

Katniss wheezes a little from being hit in the stomach, but she laughs loudly and says, "I know! Why do you think I took the opportunity?"

"Because you're awful! Playing on people's fears is not nice. And to think that I was going to make you something to eat!"

Katniss straightens up in a second, "'Whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves. You still know that I'm the best sister ever, and you love cooking for me."

"I'll only make something if you help," Prim says, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at Katniss. Frowns do not suit her usually happy face.

"Fine, fine," Katniss puts her hands up in surrender.

"I'll help," I finally speak up.

"Nonsense, Peeta. You're the guest," Prim says to me when I walk farther into the kitchen.

They start pulling things from pantries and cabinets until they have all the ingredients for spaghetti. I try to help but have my hands slapped away by both sisters. As they start cooking, I walk around the kitchen looking at things.

I see a bunch of different colored Post-it notes stuck to the fridge on top of each other. I assume that they are to-do lists, but upon looking closer, I find that they are song lyrics.

Today's note says, 'Don't tell me I'm a danger to myself.' Underneath the lyrics the song and artist has been written, 'Cuckoo by Adam Lambert.' It has the date in the top left corner, and 'PEE' is written in the bottom right corner.

I pull this one off the fridge and find yesterday's lyrics, 'Heart still beating, but it's not working.' Underneath is, 'Feel Again by OneRepublic.' Again the bottom right corner has 'PEE' written in it.

"Hey, Katniss, what are these?"

She leaves Prim and walks over to me. "Oh, those are our daily lyrics. Every day we put up a new piece of a song that pops out to us. I used to do it all the time, but now that I don't live here, Prim does it for me. I started doing it in high school to cheer Prim up, but now it's her job, and it cheers me up to see them."

"What does the 'PEE' stand for?"

"It's Prim's initials—Primrose Elizabeth Everdeen. If I write one, I put my initials, KME—Katniss Marie Everdeen. We have a drawer full of these." She slides open a drawer to the left the fridge, and I see thousands of colored sticky notes stuffed in the drawer, along with the current pad of sticky notes and a pen.

"Oh wow, that's a lot of paper. Have you kept every single one throughout the years?"

"Yeah, they're like memories. Neither of us could bear to toss out all the good times, so we didn't."

"This is really cool. My family never did anything like this. Hell, we barely ever spoke to each other. My dad and I spoke, but my two brothers were older and didn't want anything to do with me. And my mother- well, she was a witch that no one dared mess with."

Katniss reaches out and squeezes my hand.

"Guys, it's ready. Come on," Prim calls from the other side of the kitchen.

Katniss and I smile at each other and walk over to get a plate of spaghetti. When we're done, Katniss, Prim, and I sit and talk for a while. At one point the two sisters get into a war, trying to tell me the most embarrassing stories of each other from their childhood. They have me laughing so hard that I can't breathe and my stomach hurts as I grasp at it. When I'm able to breathe again, I wipe the tears from my eyes and lean back, trying the stretch out my sore stomach muscles.

My face hurts from smiling so much, but I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be than sitting at the table with two gorgeous sisters.

Best first date ever.


	9. Chapter 9: Babel

**A/N: The song for this chapter is Babel by Mumford & Sons.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story!**

**I also want to point out that I put up the first chapter of a new fic if anyone wants to check it out. It's called The Slip of Paper.**

**I don't own The Hunger Games or any characters.**

Chapter 9: Babel

Peeta's POV

It' s been a few weeks since my first date with Katniss, and we've seen each other a few more times for drinks, but with our schedule's not matching up it's been hard to see each other. With Thanksgiving coming up next week, I wanted to see Katniss before the bakery is swamped with business, and I'll be forced to be there more often.

But Katniss is working today, so I'll have to settle with a few measly texts.

_What're you doing?_ she asks me.

I want to say 'Thinking of you,' but that seems too heavy to say in a text. So instead I say, _Pretending to pay attention to The Food Network. It's not going too well._

_That sounds awful—even though I'm doing almost the same thing. The boys at the station wanted to watch some stupid-ass action movie, so I'm sitting on the couch and haven't paid a second of attention to the movie. I think somebody got shoved off a building, but I'm not completely sure._

_That doesn't sound like fun. Normally I would do something at the bakery, but since it is Sunday it closed early._

_You should come to the station and keep me company._

Her response makes me pause. 'Come to the station'? As in visit her fire station? While she's on shift? _Can I even do that?_

_Yeah! My coworkers' families/girlfriends come over all the time. Prim comes to see me sometimes to have dinner over here. Really, it's totally fine. But if we get a call while you're here, I'll have to leave. You could wait there until we got back, but it has been a slow day, so I doubt we'll have to worry about it._

I contemplate her offer. I want to see her but being around her coworkers will probably make me uncomfortable. Eventually I decide what I want to do. _I'll come. But does this make me your girlfriend? Because the only other option was family, and we're not related._

_Oh, shut up._

After she tells me the address of the place, I hop in the car and drive the fifteen minutes to Station 12.

"Watch out! Speed Racer is coming through!" Thresh calls out as we pass him in the kitchen of fire station. The place is big with state of the art—well everything. Katniss told me that the new guy in charge was rich and had donated millions of dollars to build new, modernized stations.

"Speed Racer?" I question Katniss with a laugh.

Giving Thresh a scowl, Katniss turns back to me and explains, "They all call me that because I drive the trucks when we go on calls here," she leans in closer, "They're all just jealous."

"You drive the trucks? The _fire trucks_?" I ask in awe.

Thresh answers for her, "Yeah, but only because her bunker gear is easier for her to put on," he gives Katniss a dirty look, "Because she's so much smaller, her gear doesn't have as many snaps, buttons, and Velcro as ours does." Thresh's look turns into a mischievous one as he tells me, "Little Kat is also our personal siren when she drives."

All the other men sitting in the living room laugh when they hear Thresh's words. The man Katniss introduced as Darius walks up to grab something out of the fridge and nods to me, "It's true. She sings her _favorite song_ every time a car in front of us isn't moving out of our path fast enough or hesitates to move."

I look to Katniss to see if she'll clarify their words, but she's looking at the floor with a bright red face. But then she mumbles, "It's not my _favorite_ song…"

Darius grins and clears his throat, "It goes a little something like this..."

Then in unison, Darius and Thresh yell, "Move, bitch! Get out the way! Get out the way, bitch. Get out the way!"

Laughing, I turn to Katniss in surprise, "Do you really sing that?"

She glances up and blushes deeper, "Yeah… I have to take my frustration out somehow, and it's not like I can flip them off or just ram into them…"

I can't stop the snickers that escape my mouth, and Katniss gives me a little shove.

Darius pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it. "I actually think I have a video of her tirade on here from that time I rode shotgun with her… give me a second to find it."

Katniss' eyes go wide as she reaches for his phone, "No, Darius, not funny. We really don't need to see that."

Darius just stretches his arm high in the air out of her reach. Katniss' height is against her, and she refuses to jump to grab it out of pride, so she fixes Darius with a scowl that I would hate to be on the receiving end of.

"Oh, come on, Kitty Kat," Darius pleas as he pockets his phone, "You know we're just playing."

When Katniss turns back to me, Darius mouths, "Later."

I chuckle and nod as Katniss pulls on my hand, telling me that she's taking me on a tour.

As we exit the kitchen, Thresh calls out, "Just remember, Kitty Kat, people have to sleep in that bed after you do! Not the same sheets but come on, keep the bed clean."

Katniss turns to walk backwards through the hallway so she's facing Thresh as she walks. "I may not be able to flip the idiot drivers on the streets off," she calls, "But I can sure as hell flip you off." And then she gives him the bird—even when she turns back around, she holds her middle finger in sight over her shoulder until we walk through a door that cuts off our view of Thresh and Darius.

"Sorry about that," she mumbles, "They can be real assholes sometimes."

"Not to worry," I touch her arm, "I have two older brothers, remember? I get it."

She smiles softly as she starts pointing out rooms. A small gym is on the left; a classroom is on the right; next to the class room is a few different offices. Then she leads me down a new hallway out a door into 'the bay.' That's apparently what they call their garage.

Slowly approaching the fire truck, I ask, "You really drive this? It's huge. I would be so scared that I would hit something."

"It is scary at first, but you get used to it."

I inspect it more closely. "I didn't realize how many compartments were on the sides of these things. There are literally doors all over the side of this thing."

"Yeah, every inch is utilized. You can open some if you want."

I walk to the closest one and find an axe and some rope inside. A small door that looks like it would be the gas tank entry actually holds an oxygen tank in it. "That's cool stuff," I say as I open a few other compartments and find tools and supplies in them.

"If you think that's cool, look at this," Katniss says as she walks behind the truck. She opens the door on the back and slides a huge tray out. On the tray is the biggest tool I've ever seen.

"Is that the jaws of life?" I ask in awe.

"Yeah," she laughs.

"Have you ever used them?" I ask turning my gaze to her.

Her cheeks are tinged pink again. "Me? No, I can't: I'm not strong enough." She peeks up at me. "It's too heavy."

I don't want to push my luck, but I have to ask, "Can I try?" I gesture towards the machine.

"Yeah, go for it. Be careful though."

I grasp the tool, and Katniss is right. This thing is super heavy. I turn it around in my hands a few times to inspect it but then set it down in its original spot.

"That may be one of the coolest things I've ever touched," I pause throwing my arm across her shoulder, "Second only to you."

She chuckles and shoves me off her. "You're so lame." She points to some open lockers on the other side of the room as we walk over there, "That's our bunker gear."

When we stand next to the row of lockers, I inspect all the gear inside. Then I walk to one locker and tug on the sleeve of a puffy, yellow jacket. "Let me guess, this one is yours."

She walks over and feigns a gasp, "However did you know? Was it my impeccable organization?"

I chortle and play along, "Well, it most certainly _wasn't_ the huge 'EVERDEEN' sewn on the back of the jacket in bright, neon green letters. I think it may be the vanilla smell that you always seem to exude." Then I make a huge mistake. I sniff the air real close to her bunker gear and have to bend over and gag. Her clothes smell strongly of smoke and ash, and the smell is extremely overwhelming that I'm surprised I didn't catch it earlier.

Katniss has to bend over too, but it's because she's laughing so hard that she can't stand up straight. Her hands grip the navy blue fabric of her uniform t-shirt covering her stomach as another bout of laughter seizes her.

After I quit coughing, I laugh with her, though I doubt I'll be able to get that smell out of my system for a long time.

She grabs my hand and leads me to a door on the opposite side of 'the bay' and door we came from, all the while still quietly chuckling to herself about my incident. She tells me that this is where all dorms are.

As we walk down the long hallway, she rattles off some names of the people who stay there, but I only recognize Thresh and Darius in her list. She points to the bathrooms, and we keep walking until she stops in front of one door.

"This one is mine during my shift," she tells me as she moves to sit on her bed.

The room is barely furnished with only a twin sized bed, a TV on a small table, an armoire where I assume her clothes are, and a fan. On her un-made bed are deep green sheets.

"Sorry," she says as she gestures to her bed, "I wasn't expecting company, but I haven't slept yet this shift. I got here at eight in the morning; I just threw the sheets on the bed and didn't really care."

"It's fine," I assure her as I walk further into the room. I gesture to the armoire, "Do you just keep all your uniforms in there?"

"All the clean ones, yeah," she nudges the cabinet open with her foot to show me three uniforms hanging inside. "Because I never know when I'm going to need a new, clean uniform."

I point to one of the shirts. It's nicer than the t-shirt she's wearing. "This shirt is different than the one you have on."

"That shirt has to go on over this shirt when we go out on a call. The only reason I'm not wearing it is because I hate the double layers. The shirt that goes underneath—the one I'm wearing—has slightly bigger sleeves. Just big enough that the sleeves bunch up when I wear both shirts, so I go without the top shirt until we have to go. And I'm still the fastest one out there," she ends with a smile.

I slowly walk up to her, "I think the uniform is incredibly sexy." She raises her eyebrows as I lean into her ear. "Don't even get me started on those suspenders I saw attached to your bunker gear in your locker," I purr.

"Is that what you think?" She sniggers.

"Definitely. It makes me go wild—seeing you in uniform," I say as I press my lips to hers.

Right as she responds to my kiss, the alarm sounds.

I jump back, but she only sighs and closes her eyes. "Please don't be me. Please don't be me. Please don't be me," she whispers to herself quietly.

"I need Engine Twelve-" but the rest of what the nasally, woman's voice is saying is cut off by Katniss' groan.

"Dammit," she says as she stands and rushes to her armoire to rip a shirt off the hanger. She quickly turns to me and motions to the hallway with her head as she slides the shirt and starts to snap the buttons closed.

She tucks in the shirt as we walk down the hallway and out the door. Darius is the only one who looks close to being finished to putting his gear on, but Katniss pulls towards her locker and speaks quickly as she matches Darius piece for piece of clothing—double timing it.

"You can wait for me if you want, but I have no idea how long we'll be gone or what condition I'll be in afterwards. You'd have the living room to yourself, but I understand if you want to leave. I won't be upset."

I watch in awe as she says this while quickly stepping into boots where her pants are already bunched up at the bottom, just waiting to be pulled up her legs. Once she does pull them up, she reaches to pull the suspenders to her shoulders. Next she goes for the jacket and a few other things, but I walk up to her and pull at the suspenders that not five minutes ago I called sexy.

"Don't worry; I'll be waiting for you." I lean in and press a kiss to her temple. "Always."

She smiles up at me through her eyelashes, all the while still throwing on clothes. Quietly, she says, "Thank you."

She grabs a few more small items and helmet from her locker and then stretches on her toes to peck my lips. "I'll be back," she says as she runs and jumps into the front seat of the truck through the door that she told me earlier always stays open.

The truck is loud when it starts up, and when she pulls out the door of the garage, she honks the horn. It's so loud that I have to cover my ears. I walk outside when the siren turns on and watch the truck speed all the way down the street until I can't see it anymore.

Slowly, I make my way back into the station and settle down on the living room couch. I wonder how long they'll be as I flip through the channels.

Then it hits me.

Katniss is a firefighter.

When she leaves in the fire truck and all her gear, it means that there's a fire.

A fire that she will be fighting. A fire that she might go into. A fire that she might succumb to.

And suddenly, I can't sit on the couch and wait for her—I start to pace. My thoughts turn into frantic scenarios, all of which do not end up well for Katniss.

This will be the longest wait of my life.

**A/N: My father is a firefighter, so I've experienced this many times. Not the kissing in the dorm room because he's my father and ew. But being in the middle of something and having him have to leave to respond to a 911 call. And the waiting. The waiting is the worst thing I've ever had to experience repeatedly. I tried to have a dinner with my dad four different times for my sixteenth birthday, but for the first two times, he had to leave home because someone else at work called in sick, and my dad had to fill in for him. The third time, we brought pizza to my dad at the station just so we could say we celebrated, and the very second he lifted a piece of pizza to his mouth, the alarm went out and of course it was for his engine. I cried. I literally cried out of frustration that I couldn't have a simple birthday dinner with my dad. I refused to eat until he got back, and when he did, the pizza was cold. But I didn't care. I was going to eat with my dad whether God wanted me to or not. The fourth attempt was successful; I ate cold pizza with my dad at the kitchen table with all of his coworkers who I adore to celebrate my 16****th**** birthday that had passed four days prior. Best belated birthday dinner I've had yet.**


	10. Chapter 10: Last Resort

**A/N: The song for this chapter is Last Resort by Papa Roach. This song may be a little… intense for this chapter, but I think it adamantly gets the point across. And it makes me smile because it reminds me of my dad from when I was little. Let's just say that my parents never restricted any music from me. If my parents wanted to listen to music that said 'fuck' in the song, then they were going to, whether or not a six year was in the car. They have given me a pretty eccentric taste in music, but that's okay.**

**Happy holidays! And a big thank you goes out to anyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this fic. Also a thank you to everyone who read this and took the time to check out my other fic, The Slip of Paper.**

**I don't own The Hunger Games or any characters.**

Chapter 10: Last Resort

Peeta's POV

I hate this. I hate this so much.

She's not back yet. How long does it take to put out a fire? I have no idea, but she's been gone hours, and I refuse to leave until I see her—whole and unharmed.

About an hour ago, I got so nervous and anxious that I raided the pantries until I had all the ingredients I needed to make cheese buns. I had to use a few substitutes, but they should turn out fine. I didn't use anything that had a name written on it—everything was unclaimed and looked like it had been sitting around for a while. So to give my hands something to do, I started making cheese buns. Being unfamiliar with this kitchen, it took me a little longer than usual, but I didn't mind because it gave my mind something to think about.

Once the buns are baking, I go back to pacing around the kitchen and living room. I turn the news on, trying to see if anything about the fire was on, but there was no story on about a fire. I leave the TV on, just in case something does pop up about a fire.

I can't focus on anything for too long because my thoughts jump right back to Katniss—if she's okay, if she's inside a burning building, if she's saving someone and risking her life to do it. Then I realize something. Our first technical kiss was awful. She barely had time to respond to it before the moment was ruined by an alarm. And then we had a quick peck of the lips as she ran off to go fight a fire. A couple measly pecks—not even particularly loving, just semi-soothing. I have to fix that when she comes back.

Just as I was opening the oven to pull out the buns, I heard the garage door opening. I quickly reached in and grabbed the tray, throwing it on top of the stove carelessly. Rushing toward the door, I ripped off the oven mitt and threw on the counter next to the stove.

I'm about to rip open the door when it flies open toward me and almost hits me in the face. I jump back to avoid being hit and look at me would be assailant.

It's Katniss.

Before I know what I'm doing, I have her wrapped in my arms. Squeezing tightly once, I let go and push her out to arm's length away. Silently inspecting her, I lift up her arms and spin her body around, looking her up and down for any wounds. Finding none, I pull her in for another hug.

"Thank God," I whisper into her hair.

She chuckles softly into my neck, "I see someone had a rough few hours."

"You have no idea. That was the worst few hours of my life. Surpasses the time my dad went to the hospital to pass a kidney stone."

"If the state of your hair tells me anything, I'd say you were practically losing your mind."

I look into the nearest reflective surface, the door, and through the fun house-like warps in my reflection, I can tell that my blonde curls are pointing in every direction. I didn't even realize how many times I had run my hands through my hair.

So I breathe into her hair, which is now in a tight bun—like a ballerina would wear, "To keep my status as your girlfriend, do I need to go freshen up?"

She laughs, and I can feel goose bumps form on my neck where her breath ghosts across it. "No, leave it. I like it." She moves one of her hands up my back and into my hair. Running her fingers through my hair, she says lightly, "It reminds me that you care."

I pull back to see her face and see so many emotions flickering there that it puts me at I loss for words. The best thing I can come up with slips from my mouth. "Hi."

She smiles softly at me, "Hey."

I grin and pull her back to me and crush her lips to mine. I try to pour my emotions into it—worry from when she was gone, relief at her being okay, happiness that she's here, and my love for her.

Hold up. Love? When I think this, I almost rip my mouth from hers in shock.

But I don't because I realize that it's true. I love her. I was so worry for her. She was all I could think about. I don't think I would have been that worried even if my entire family was held hostage. I've never felt so helpless and awful before. It was a horrendous experience, but I'd do it all over again if it meant that I could continue to see Katniss.

She kisses me back an equal amount of passion. I can feel her thankfulness that I stayed—that I waited for her to come home.

I'm worried that the other firefighters will walk in on us and see our intense kiss, but Katniss doesn't seem worried about it, so I stop thinking about it.

Finally something other than our kiss pervades my senses.

"Jesus Christ!" I declare while plugging my nose. "You smell like-"

"Shit. I know." She chuckles as she pulls back from me, "Fires don't smell good, so rushing into them just transfers the smell and then mixes in with the sweat."

All the guys walk into the kitchen then from the bay. They see me holding my nose and laugh. It makes me blush and removed my hand from my face.

Thresh walks up and announces, "Yeah, we all need showers, but ladies first."

Katniss groans, "All right, fine. Darius can go first."

All of the men chuckle at her joke, but Darius shoots her the finger as he sneers, "Gladly." Then he smiles mischievously at Katniss and tells her, "Plus you have something to deal with. Or do you not remember Rover?"

Katniss' brows scrunch together. "Shit. I did forget about him. I'll figure something out."

I'm sure the confusion is evident on my face when I ask, "Who's Rover?"

A high pitched "Um" leaves Katniss' mouth. I can see her turning things over in her head. Finally, she grasps my hand and leads me through the door to the bay.

Once we enter the bay she gestures wildly over to a heap over by the fire truck and then turns her head away to look out the glass of the garage doors.

I inspect the heap from afar and see that it's a fireman's jacket with something bronze colored on top of it.

"What is that?" I ask as I squint my eyes toward the jacket.

At the sound of my voice, the bronze heap on the jacket moves. A pair of brown eyes stares back at me, and I realize that the bronze heap is a dog poking its head up at me.

"Oh, it's a dog. Rover is a dog," I say lamely. Katniss nods without looking at me or the dog, and Rover cocks his head at me.

Slowly I approach the dog, and he just stares at me as make my way over. Upon closer inspection, I see the jacket is Katniss' because it says EVERDEEN on the back. Sitting down on the ground next to the dog's makeshift bed, I hold out my hand for the dog to sniff. The dog stares up at me and barely takes a whiff of my hand before he leans his head into my hand. When I smile at the dog and laugh at its trust, he decides I'm being too slow to respond to his want of me to pet him. He pulls back from me to nudge my hand with his nose and then proceeds to place his head right back in the palm of my hand.

Chuckling as I start to scratch the dog's head and neck, I turn back to Katniss and say, "He's really sweet—and demanding."

With a sigh, Katniss trudges over to where I am perched and unceremoniously plops herself down next me. "I know."

"How did you end up with him?"

She glances at me before reaching to scratch Rover's back. "I saved him." She pauses before launching herself into the story. "It was an abandoned building on fire. The other boys were preoccupied putting hoses together so they could extinguish the fire in the front of the building, but I heard it. There were whimpers coming from the back of the building that wasn't fire yet. We assumed that it was a homeless person trapped inside, so we started making a quick plan to send a rescue team inside. Then when the other guys heard the bark, they refused to risk their lives to save a dog. If it had been a human, they would have gone in. But now that it was a dog, there was no way in hell that they were going to try to rescue it. So I very calmly said to hell with them and went after the dog. It was smoky in the back of the building, but I could still sort of see, but really I just listened to the whimpers. When they stopped, my heart stopped. I had rushed into a building on fire for this dog; I sure as hell wasn't leaving without it."

She pauses in her story and gets a far off look in her eyes. I look down and see her hands tangled in the dog's fur, no longer scratching his back. Slowly she starts again, "The smoke was getting worse and my oxygen tank only had thirty minutes of air left in it. If I was going to get this dog, I had to do it fast. So I started screaming. As loud as I could because I know how muffled my voice would be by the mask I was wearing. I ran up and down the halls for a little while as I screamed for the dog. I almost gave up. Almost walked out. Then I heard him."

She slowly drags her fingers through Rover's fur, "He gave one last whimper, and I threw open the door to the room I thought he was in. Thank God, it was the right room, or we wouldn't have made it out. He was curled up in the corner of the room, shaking and covered in ash and soot. I just ran up to him—which I'm sure scared the shit out of him—but I didn't care. I scooped him up and ran outside. The guys told me I was the most stupid person they knew, but I didn't care. I wasn't just going to listen to that dog burn to death and not give him a chance. So while the boys finished putting out the fire, I sat with the dog and calmed him down—which was easier to do once I took off my gear, and he could see I was a human and not some huge beast that was going to eat him or something. I took a hose and rinsed him off because he was disgusting. When the guys were putting the hoses away, they saw how red his fur was so they started calling him Rover—like Red Rover. The name stuck, and the dog was attached to my side, so I had to take him home."

I take Katniss' chin in my hand and turn her head to look at me. "That was so brave. You are the reason everyone calls firefighters heroes. You are the reason every kid looks up to the firefighters. You are the reason every single kid wants to be a firefighter when they grow up. You are the epitome of valor."

Her chin wobbles in my hand, and it looks like she might cry. She throws her arms around my neck, and one hand fists in my hair. "Thank you," she whispers as she kisses my cheek.

Apparently the dog does not take not being the center of attention well because he whines and crawls on top of Katniss and my crossed legs, putting himself between us.

I chuckle as I let go of Katniss and pet the dog again.

Katniss sighs deeply as she takes the dogs face in her hands and kisses the top of his head. When she pulls back, she looks into his eyes and asks him, "What am I going to do with you, boy? No dogs are allowed at my apartment. And mom and Prim have enough animals and Haymitch. Maybe one of the guys will-"

"I'll take him."

Her head whips toward me. "What?"

"I said I'd take him." I beam at her, "My mom never let us have pets as kids. I've always wanted a dog, but I've never worked up the nerve to go to a shelter and pick one out."

Katniss grins and kisses me hard on the lips. When she breaks away, she doesn't pull back very far, so I feel her lips brush mine with every word as she whispers, "You are the best girlfriend ever."


	11. Chapter 11: Give Me Love

**A/N: The song for this chapter is Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran.**

**Wow, I've been getting some really awesome reviews lately. So thank you all who reviewed, favorited, and followed this fic. It seems like everyone loves firefighter Katniss.**

**Also, thank you to everyone who follows this fic and went to check out my other fic, The Slip of Paper. It has gotten a huge and wonderful response. I can't even tell you how ecstatic I am that people are responding to it. Thanks again!**

**I don't own The Hunger Games or the characters.**

Chapter 11: Give Me Love

Peeta's POV

In preparation for Katniss' visit to my apartment today, I have been baking all morning. Not because I think we're going to be able to eat the mound of pastries I've baked, but because I need to keep busy. If I don't keep moving, I will get more anxious than I already am, and then I'll start sweating and trying to fix things that are already perfect. Though by now, my hair is surely a lost cause.

When I look at the clock, I see that Katniss should be here any minute. I told her the door to the lobby should be propped open, and that she should just walk into my apartment without knocking. I'll be baking until the moment she steps through the door.

Rover nudges my leg. We've been playing this game all morning—he begs for attention; I make him do a trick that I taught him; he gets a piece of some sort of baked good. I have a feeling that Rover will be pleasantly plump dog. After Rover barks—per my instructions—I throw him a piece of a raspberry Danish. He gobbles it up and looks up at me, giving me the sad, puppy dog eyes that he hopes will bring him another treat.

I'm seriously contemplating giving him another treat when I hear the doorknob of the front door wiggle. When he hears the front door open, Rover runs from my side to the living room—all the while barking at the suspected intruder.

"Rover! Hey, boy!" I catch Katniss call out excitedly. Hearing her voice makes me smile. Then she continues, "Red Rover, Red Rover send Peeta right over."

I turn to look at Katniss with a raised brow. She's off to the side of my living room by the door bent down, scratching Rover's neck and making his back leg stab at the air because she's hit just the right spot.

"What?" she asks me with a shrug.

"How long have you been sitting on that joke? Be honest."

"I don't know. Like one or two days?" she mumbles to the floor.

"I've had Rover for two days."

Slowly she nods, "Yup."

"You've had that joke festering inside you since the day you gave me Rover?"

"You're making it sound more pathetic than it really is! I needed the comic timing—or else it wouldn't have made sense! And then you presented me with an opening, so I went with it." She shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips.

Walking over to me, she eyes me up and down. "Is this how you always bake? Maybe I need to stop by your bakery more often."

I blush, feeling a little self-conscious in my shirtless state even though I know it's stupid. She's already seen me without a shirt on, and I'm wearing an apron that covers most of my front. "No, I don't always bake shirtless. I've been in the kitchen for hours, so the oven started making the whole apartment heat up. When I couldn't take it anymore, I took the shirt off."

"You're right; it's really hot in here. Like a damn sauna." She turns around and walks slowly to my kitchen table, taking her sweatshirt off as she goes. The back of her shirt lifts up with the sweatshirt so high that I think that it might come off with it. I see the back of her see-through black bra, and I see something else black but I can't quite tell what it is.

"Hey, what is that?" I ask as Katniss sets her sweatshirt down on a chair.

"What is what?" She cocks her head to the side.

"Do you have a tattoo? On your back?" I gesture toward her figure.

"Um, yeah. I do."

She looks a little nervous. Why? I have no idea. Maybe she got it when she was younger and now she's ashamed of it. Or maybe it's the name of an ex-boyfriend.

"Can I see it?" I ask softly. When she hesitates, I try to back pedal, "You don't have to show it to me if you don't want to."

She just nods as she turns around. She pulls the back of her shirt up so that her head comes out of the head hole, but her arms stay in the arm holes. She pulls her braid over her shoulder so it doesn't obstruct my view.

I walk closer to her and inspect the black ink that stretches from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. It's an arrow. It pierces the skin closer to her left shoulder blade and the head comes back through to where you can still see all of it.

Her bra straps cover a little of the piercing and the feathers on the end of the arrow. "Can I move these?" I ask her quietly as I tug lightly on one strap. At her nod I slide them over her shoulders.

It's not gory at all; it's beautiful. The feathers on the back of the arrow look like they're being blown from the wind. The gray arrow head is sharp but has some scratches on the face of it.

I place one hand on her right shoulder and one on her left hip, so I can lean closer. Now I can tell what the scratches are. They're numbers that look as if they've been etched onto the arrow head. 9-11-01.

My heart breaks. This tattoo is a reminder to one of the worst days of her life. I don't understand why she chose an arrow, but maybe one day she'll tell me. Of course she was nervous to show it to me. I want to comfort her, but I don't know what to say. Katniss is more of an action type, not word type.

So I use actions. I lean in and press my lips to the arrow head. I slide my hand down from her shoulder and wrap my arms around her waist. Hugging her from behind, I close my eyes and rest my head on her left shoulder. I press a few more kisses there.

She relaxes into my chest, leaning back to rest her weight on me. One of her hands reaches up and runs its fingers through my hair. Her other hand laces its fingers with mine. She leans her head against mine.

I don't know how long we stay like this. Minutes? Hours? Maybe days? I don't care. It feels right, so right.

Finally, Katniss turns slowly in my arms. She slides her bra straps up her arm and slips her shirt back over her head. She locks her fingers around the back of my neck and pulls herself closer to me.

"Thank you," she whispers against my lips with her eyes closed.

I feel goose bumps ignite all over my body. My eyes drift closed. "For what?" I whisper back.

"For this—for making it not hurt as much."

"Always. I'll always do that. If you'll allow it."

She presses her lips to mine once. "I'll allow it."

We share a smile, and I press a kiss to her temple. "Thank you."

We hug for a little while longer before I ask, "Are you hungry?" When she nods, I continue, "I made a shit-ton of cheese buns. We can eat those."

I pile a plate high with cheese buns and a few other types of pastries and bring it over to my couch as I take off my apron and slip on the shirt I grabbed off the kitchen table. Katniss lies with her head in my lap, and I set the plate down on her stomach.

"So, now I'm being reduced to a piece of furniture? That's nice; thank you, Peeta," Katniss says with a sarcasm laced voice.

"Well, look at you. You make a very nice table. At least I don't have you down on all fours."

I didn't realize what I had said until Katniss raises a brow at me and give smirk. I blush as a second meaning to my words becomes clear to me. I try not to picture a naked Katniss down on her hands and knees with me positioned behind her because I'm in a compromised position. She would feel my erection if I got hard while thinking about her naked.

Ever the savior, Rover comes up to distract me—and get a treat. He nudges my knee and whines a little. After he spins around in a circle once like he's chasing his tail, I give him a piece of the cheese bun I'm eating.

"This seems practiced," Katniss tells me as she moves a finger back and forth between Rover and me. "Seems like you do this a lot."

"Well, Rover likes treats; I like baking them, and it's a good way to practice the tricks I've taught him."

"What kind of tricks?"

"I'll show you." I whistle to Rover, and he trots over. "Sit." Rover sits. I lean a little over Katniss, "Paw," I command as I hold out my hand. Rover puts his paw in my hand. "Lie down," I tell him, and he listens. "Roll over. Stand. Speak. Jump. Beg. Shake it out. Back up. Lie down. Fireman's crawl toward me," I command in quick succession. Rover does it all without hesitation. I throw him an entire cheese bun as a reward.

"Holy shit! You taught him all that in two days? That's amazing; Prim's dog barely knows how to lie down. She babies him a little bit."

"Rover is really smart; it's not all my doing. And he really likes food—like a lot, so he's willing to do anything," I look down at Katniss with a smile, "And you haven't even seen the grand finale."

She looks up with a raised brow. "Well, excuse my interruption. Please, proceed."

I hold my hand up in the form of a pistol. Looking Rover dead in the eye, I call out, "Bang, bang!"

Rover immediately seizes up and whimpers. Stumbling a few steps to the left, he lets out a pitiful bark. Finally, he falls to the floor and whines a few more times before he groans and lets his tongue loll out of the side of his mouth as he closes his eyes.

Katniss looks up at me with wide eyes. "There's no way you taught him that. Oh my God. That's fucking awesome. I can't believe it. I find the most awesome, homeless dog in a burning building, and then I gave him away. There's no way I could have taught him that; I don't have the patience." She gestures toward the dog, "Do it again."

After I make Rover up, I make him do the trick again, but I don't watch him. I watch Katniss—her gray eyes as they sparkle, the crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she squints, the slight upward curl of her mouth. She just chuckles and mumbles, "Amazing," under her breath.

Looking down at her and whisper, "I know."

She blushes once she realizes I'm not talking about the dog.

"We're not done," I tell her when she looks away.

"Oh, really? I assumed there couldn't be any tricks left."

"Yes, really." And then I lean down and whisper in her ear.

"Are you kidding me? He fucking does that too? Jesus Christ, he really is a super dog."

"Try him."

"Fine." She hesitantly turns toward the dog. "Rover?" His attention is immediately on her. "Will you go fetch me a towel?"

Rover barks and runs to the kitchen. While he's in there, Katniss looks at me in confusion. "Why did he go into the kitchen? You said to ask for a towel, not a beer."

"He can't open doors. Yet," is all I reply with.

I hear Rover's nails running on the kitchen tile and know he's coming back, so I turn my attention to the doorway. Rover runs through it, holding the hand towel that hangs off my oven. He goes to Katniss and deposits the towel on her neck.

She chuckles as she picks the towel up. "Thank you, boy." She ruffles his ears and throws him a treat. Before he eats it, he licks her face. Katniss laughs again. "Good thing Peeta taught you some manners too. Now all the ladies will be smitten." She scratches his back and then looks at me, "Did you give him a bath? He's really soft…"

"Yeah, he was kind of dirty after lying on your nasty jacket. I was going to take him to get a trim too—since he's so shaggy. But, you know, I like it, and it's winter, so I decided he could keep the shaggy look until summer."

"How thoughtful of you," Katniss laughs.

"That's the kind of person I am—so thoughtful that I didn't even plan for something for us to do. Wanna just watch a movie or something?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you have?"

I gently lift her head to scoot out from underneath her and crouch before my DVD stand. "Um, Goonies, Clue, Scream, every Harry Potter, Avatar, Grease, The Breakfast Club-"

"Yes!"

"What? The Breakfast Club?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Favorite movie ever. The ending—oh my God—best ending of all movies. The song completely makes it fantastic; it sums it up perfectly. Don't You (Forget About Me) is one of my all-time favorite songs."

"Okay, we'll watch this then." I pop it into the DVD player and grab the remote.

"I have to warn you; even though this is my favorite movie, there is no doubt in my mind that I will fall asleep. Movies do that to me. Especially when I'm laying down. I can't help it; it's a defect in my system. And your lap is pretty comfy."

"That's all right. I had a busy morning, so I might end up taking a nap with you."

When the movie starts, we quiet down. Katniss watches with boundless attention; her eyes never wander from the screen. I, however, cannot pay one second of attention to what's happening on the TV. The entire time, I stare at her unabashedly.

Stunning. She's stunning even when doing something as simple as watching a movie. I love everything about her—her looks, the way she slightly holds in her chuckles so that her entire body shakes from them, the way she grabs my hand with hers and traces the lines on my palm without thinking, how she rubs her toes on her calf when her feet get cold (after this I throw a blanket over her legs), when she softly presses a kiss to my leg.

Then slowly, she drifts off. She fights sleep, fights hard. Every time her eyes try to close, she quickly snaps them open and watches with more vigor, determined to finish her favorite movie. She holds out for a while, surprisingly. Then one time, I don't see her stormy, gray eyes open again once they close. She lost the fight with sleep.

I remove the plate from her stomach, just in case she shifts while asleep. Then I continue watching her. When she sleeps, her face loses its lines from her constant scrunched eyebrows. Her mouth is open slightly, and she takes deep breaths. She sighs and settles deeper into the couch, turning her head toward my stomach. She grips my hand tighter and pulls it to her chest. Her other hand grabs at my shirt.

I don't know how long I watch her. She seems so content and comfortable asleep in my lap, and it makes my heart swell. Eventually I fall asleep with—I'm sure—a shit-eating grin on my face.

Then I'm awakened by her screams.

**A/N: I couldn't say this when I started writing, but I can now… Happy New Year! May it be kind to you all.**


	12. Chapter 12: All Time Low

**A/N: The song for this chapter is All Time Low by The Wanted. Prepare yourselves because this chapter has feelings—and a lot of them! After I wrote this, I had a headache from scrunching my eyebrows together for so long. I was pretty focused, I assume.**

**A shout out goes to Annie2813 for her incredible support and kindness!**

**Thank you to all reviewers/favoriters/followers! You guys make me smile.  
**

**I don't own The Hunger Games or any characters (except Rover, he's mine).**

Chapter 12: All Time Low

Peeta's POV

"_Katniss!_" I scream her name multiple times while my hands shake her shoulders. It does nothing to wake her up, and she's still thrashing around and screaming. The peaceful face I saw earlier in her sleep has disappeared.

"_Dad, don't! No, Prim! Come back! Please! NO!_" Her shrieks and sobs are breaking my heart, but I have no idea how to pull her away from the nightmare.

Suddenly her face contorts with pain, more pain than I ever thought humanly possible. Her hands fist in my shirt and she whimpers, "Peeta? No, not Peeta, please."

"Yes, I'm here Katniss! I'm here," I try to assure her, but her eyes aren't open. She's still asleep. Why is she whimpering my name?

I'm in her nightmare too. I know now is not the time, but I feel an over-whelming sense of giddiness. She cares about me enough that she's having a nightmare about her family and I'm included. I know how much she cares about Prim and her father, so it's a huge accomplishment to have her associating me on their level—even if it is just her subconscious mind.

I wrap my arms tighter about Katniss, trying to say soothing words into her ears. "Katniss, it's okay. You're okay. I'm okay. What you're seeing isn't real. Don't be afraid. Wake up. Come back to me."

Finally, her eyes snap open; her pupils are dilated in fear. She blinks a few times as her eyes flit around the room. Then her eyes focus on my face.

I'm about to ask if she's okay, but she interrupts. Her hands reach up to hold both sides of my face as she asks slowly and seriously, "Are you real or not real?"

I'm confused by her question, so it takes me a minute to respond. But I'm too late because Katniss' eyebrows scrunch together and she looks scared again.

"Fuck, Peeta, just answer the question! Are you real or not real?" She's getting increasingly frantic, looking like she might cry.

"_Real!_ I'm real! I'm real; I promise."

Her body moves so fast that I can't comprehend it. Her arms are wrapped around my neck in the tightest hold I've ever been in—even my brothers' headlocks don't compare, and we were all in wrestling in our high school years. After she buries her face into the crook of my neck, I wrap my arms securely around her waist. I won't be letting go of her anytime soon.

I hold onto her as the silent sobs tear through her body—so similar to the chuckles she held in during the movie, but I know she's not laughing. I can feel the hot tears drip from her eyes onto my skin. Her warm, erratic breathing gives the skin of my neck goose bumps. I bury my face in her hair and wait.

Rover looks on from the other side of the room, and cocks his head at me. He walks over and puts his head on the couch next to my leg and looks up through his ginger lashes at me. He whines a little and nudges Katniss' back. I don't think she notices, but Rover knows that something is wrong.

I feel a few tears escape the corners of my eyes when whimpers into my skin; I hate seeing her like this. I never want to see her like this again. I will do everything in my power to make sure this never happens again, and if it does, I want to be right by her side.

Granted, it does feel nice to be needed by her—she needed me to pull her from the nightmare, and now she needs me to comfort her—but having to see her struggle over what is an illusion and what is reality is not worth it. She is the strongest woman I know, and I don't ever want her to be forced to her knees in a sniveling mess again. She deserves better.

The vanilla smell of her calms me down, and I start to rock her back and forth while rubbing her back gently in soothing circles. One of her hands slides up into my hair and pulls at the curls, which is oddly relaxing.

Eventually her body stops shaking and her breathing slows. Sniffling, she looks up as she wipes at her face with the back of her hand. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen from all her crying. I set my hands on the sides her face and brush away the tear track marks with the pads of my thumbs.

With a weak smile, she asks, "Did I miss Judd Nelson's fist pump?"

Closing my eyes, I lean forward and rest my forehead against Katniss'. I can't help but chuckle a little at her wild humor as I sigh, "Yes, Katniss, I'm afraid you did."

She gives a bashful smile and says, "Dammit, that's my favorite part." Her face turns serious. Slowly, she reaches out and wipes the tears off my face. "Why are you crying?"

Her gray eyes look concerned when I peer into them. "I don't like seeing you in pain. I couldn't wake you up, and I knew that you were terrified of what was happening in your dream; it was awful being so helpless."

She looks at her lap and mumbles, "I'm sorry."

Tilting her chin up so that her eyes meet mine, I whisper, "Don't be. It's not your fault."

"No, I guess not, but I could've warned you that it might happen. I just assumed that since I had a nightmare last night… that it wouldn't come back until at least later tonight—not this afternoon."

Clasping both her hands in mine, I ask her softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She hesitantly shakes her head but then stops on a dime and after a pause, she audibly gulps. "Yes. I'll talk about it."

"Katniss, you don't have to; I understand if you don't."

"No, Peeta, I want to. I want to tell you." She pauses and stares past me with a blank look on her face. "They're always the same. My dad runs into the Twin Towers after they've been hit. My mom, Prim, and I watch from behind the police line, but Prim is small and worried about my dad. So, she slips past the police and runs toward the building." Katniss' voice catches in her throat and looks like she might cry again. I grip her hands tighter and pull one hand up to kiss the knuckles. "Prim is only seven; she doesn't get that the building isn't safe to go in. I scream for her to come back, but she never listens—or hears, I don't know. It's so loud. When I try to run after her and my dad, people always hold me back and say I'm not allowed to go closer. Then, suddenly the building will collapse. With Prim at the doors and my dad inside. My mom doesn't say anything, just stands there staring at the rubble while I choke on the dust. I try and pull her away, but she won't budge, and I can't say anything because I can't breathe." Tears are steadily flowing over her cheeks by this point, and I hug her close to me.

"But today, it was a little different," she says as she pulls back enough to look into my eyes. Her eyes look tortured. "You were there; I don't even know where you came from. You just appeared at my shoulder and said you would go after Prim. You chased her, and when you reached her at the doors, the building came crashing down."

Her body is shaking, so I start rocking us back and forth again while whispering "We're okay" into her ear.

Once she calms down again, she hugs me and whispers, "I'm sorry you had to deal with that," into the crook of my neck.

"Anytime. I'll always be here for you. If you ever want to talk about it, or not, I'll be here. If you need help with anything, just call me—doesn't matter what time it is, I'll always be there for you. I don't want you to have to go through it alone. I know what it's like; sometimes I have nightmares like that too." In my mind, I have a little chuckle because 'sometimes' is a bit of an understatement, but oh well.

She looks up at me with confusion etched on her face. "You have nightmares too?"

"Yeah," I swallow even though my throat is as dry as a desert. "About my mother."

Katniss' eyes go wide, and she looks as if she's going to tell that I don't have to tell her anymore, but I know that I do. I want to tell her; especially since she's shared so much about herself with me.

"I want to tell you about it. You told me about yourself, so I'll tell you about myself." I take a deep breath and begin, "My mother hated me. She treated me like I was some abomination; a creature she had the misfortune of dealing with. It started with the day I was born."

I have to pause because memories of my mother flood my mind, including the last time I saw her. "I was supposed to be a twin. I had a sister, and my mom desperately wanted a girl because she already had two boys; I was just an unexpected inconvenience. But as long as mother had her baby girl, everything would be fine." I can't hold in the tears anymore. "I was born first, and my sister came afterwards. She was stillborn."

I can hear Katniss gasp and grip my hand tightly. I just nod and continue, "She was born without a heartbeat and wasn't breathing, and the doctors couldn't do anything to save her. My mother told me that I was a murderer—some sort of demon placed in her body to ruin all her hopes and dreams."

My sobs are becoming hard to control, and I can't keep the words from spilling out of my mouth. "I can't even remember why she hit me that first time. Maybe I broke something or tracked mud into the house—I don't know. But she slapped me in the face when I was about five. It all escalated from there; first it was slaps and shoves, then it turned into fists and rolling pins. If I was lucky, it was the light frying pan she hit me with; on bad days, I got the cast iron pot. My dad never knew."

My chest is heaving with the force of my weeps, and Katniss leans forward to hug my body tightly. My arms go around her body, and I whimper into her shoulder. "The last time I saw her was when I was fourteen. My dad wasn't around; he was running a delivery with my brothers or something. I had dropped a finished cake that was special-ordered on the floor because I tripped over the leg of the work table in the bakery. I had slipped in the fallen cake, so I was on my ass in a pile of mushed cake. She stalked over to me and circled me—like I was her prey. Then she beat my legs with a rolling pin, and that's all I can remember because I passed out from the pain.

"I woke up in the hospital with two broken tibias and a shattered hand. The doctors said I might not be able to walk right again—told me that I would have to do months of physical therapy.

"I asked where my dad was, and the doctor told me that someone would take me to see him in a little while. I thought maybe they would wheel me to a visiting room, but they didn't. They took me to a room down the hallway. My father was sleeping in the hospital bed. They told me that he was hit in the head by the rolling pin when he tried to protect me. He showed up a little after I passed out, apparently. My mother put him in a coma."

I'm not sure if Katniss can understand what I'm saying anymore; I'm crying so hard that I can barely breathe. She whispers reassuring words in my ear, but I have to finish. "My dad woke up two weeks later. He tried to tell me that he was sorry and that everything was his fault, but I wouldn't listen. I didn't care anymore. My mother was in jail for child and domestic abuse and still is in jail. She won't be out for years, and I don't plan on seeing her ever again. She was never a mom to me."

When Katniss looks up at me, I see tears flowing from her eyes, so I copy her words as I reach to wipe the tears off her face, "Why are you crying?"

She repeats my earlier response, "I don't like seeing you in pain. I feel so helpless." She leans her forehead against mine, "I am so sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault," I whisper against her lips.

She presses her lips to mine and whispers, "Maybe after a thousand lifetimes I could deserve you."

"Then this must your thousand and first lifetime because I think you deserve the world and everything in it."

She laughs softly against my cheek, "Maybe you're right, but I doubt it."

"I don't doubt it. You're the strongest woman I know."

She scoffs, "Yes, so strong that I'm afraid to go to sleep at night for fear of nightmares that never cease."

"Stay with me tonight." It slips out before I realize what I'm saying.

"What?" Katniss pulls back and raises her brows at me.

"Purely for sleeping reasons, I swear. Maybe we can keep each other's nightmares away."

Scrunching her eyebrows, she looks like she's seriously considering my offer. But then she shakes her head and dismisses the idea, "I can't. I have work tomorrow, and I've got to be there by eight in the morning. I'd have to wake up early, so I can head over to my place and pick up my things. I wouldn't want to bother you."

"You could never be a bother. And anyway, I have to work tomorrow too. My brother took the early shift, so I have to be at the bakery by eight as well. I rise before the sun, so I doubt that you'd wake up before me." As a last ditch effort, I throw in, "I'll even make you breakfast in the morning."

She bounces her leg as she thinks about the offer. "Are you sure?" At my nod, she relents, "Okay, I'll stay."

I grin and kiss her enthusiastically. When I pull away, I nip at her bottom lip and ask, "How about some dinner?"

"Yes, please!"

"What do want?"

"Anything you've got is fine."

So as I make us some chicken tacos for dinner, Katniss sits on the counter and occasionally samples the food. We joke and laugh and smile, and I'm happy. Sometimes we don't talk and I sneak glances at her from the corner of my eye. Sometimes I catch her watching me with an incredible amount of intensity. I think she's working something out in her head, but I don't ask. She'll explain if she wants to.

Today didn't end as I thought it would, but I wouldn't trade today for anything. Because I got to spend time with the woman I love, and that's enough for me.

Maybe one day I'll be able to tell her.


	13. Chapter 13: Fallen

**A/N: The song for this chapter is Fallen by Imagine Dragons. This chapter is pretty long, so I hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Thank you for all the support guys! Every review, favorite, and follow makes my day a little bit brighter.**

**I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters.**

Regular font = Present time  
_Italic font = Memory_

Chapter 13: Fallen

Peeta's POV

I wake up to the smell of her. Vanilla, lavender, pine. She's perfect, so perfect. I let out a small noise of appreciation, and take a deep breath.

The movement of my chest has her renewing her grip around my middle and scooting impossibly closer. She nuzzles her nose into my neck and gives a soft moan.

The sound and vibrations send my body into a frenzy. If I wasn't hard before, I definitely am now. I need to shift my lower body and hips away from Katniss, so she doesn't feel me on her stomach. When I try to move away, her legs that are intertwined with mine tighten and restrict movement. Going even further to prevent any shifting, she slides one hand down my back to the waistband of my briefs and pushes me lightly toward her, mumbling, "No, stay here."

I barely whisper back, "Always," and I try to think of anything but her. Not the way she smells, not the way she feels pressed against my body, not the shape of her braless chest that I feel through the shirt she's wearing, not the feeling of her warm breath on my neck, not her hand that's almost touching my-

_Fuck._

Definitely not helping. At all.

Think of dead puppies, old people, high school tests, feet, pastries, anything but Katniss.

I give a little chuckle when I realize that this isn't the first time in twenty-four hours that Katniss has affected me in this way.

_We have finished eating dinner, so we're just sitting at the table talking. Katniss is continuously yawning; she looks worn out from all the crying._

_ Quickly I move our plates to the sink. I walk back to Katniss and grab her hand, leading her away from the table and down the hallway to my room and muttering a soft, "Come on."_

_ "Hm? What are we doing?" Katniss asks with droopy eyes._

_ "Getting you some pajamas. Do you want a shirt and short? I know those jeans won't be comfortable to sleep in."_

_ "Yes, please."_

_ After rummaging through a few drawers, I let out a quiet curse._

_ "What's wrong?" Katniss reaches out and lightly pulls on a curl._

_ "All of my shorts are dirty. Finnick made me go to the gym with him every day last week, and I forgot to wash them."_

_ "Gross. It's fine though, just give me a pair of your boxers."_

_ I look up at her in shock, and I can feel my cheeks heat up as I stammer, "What?"_

_ Her cheeks are a little pink as she looks away and replies, "Um, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't think about you not being comfortable with it. I-"_

_ "No, it wouldn't bother me. I was just surprised. That's not what I was expecting you to say—sweatpants, sure, but boxers? Not really. But, uh, yeah, let me get you a pair." I move to the top drawer and pull out a pair of hunter green and blue boxers. I hand them to Katniss along with a plain white t-shirt. "Bathroom is over there," I point to a door off to the right. "I'm going to go clean the dishes really quick."_

_ When I'm done with the dishes, I walk back into my room to collect a few blankets and pillows for my night on the couch. As I pull the extra blanket from the foot of my bed, her voice startles me._

_ "What are you doing?"_

_ I jump and turn toward the sound of her voice. She stands a few feet from me in the clothes I gave her._

Good Lord.

She should wear my clothes more often.

_ The boxers hang loose on her hips and show off her toned, tanned legs. The t-shirt swallows her small frame, and the neck of the shirt is so big that I can see her collarbones. Is see wearing a bra? Because I think I can see her-_

Stop. Do not think about it. Do not look at it. Think of something else. Anything else. Do not get hard from staring at her inappropriately.

_"Um, I, uh, I'm grabbing some things since I'm sleeping on the couch tonight."_

_ She frowns. "No, you don't need to do that. If anyone sleeps on the couch tonight, it's going to be me. I'm the intruder; I have no claims on your bed."_

_ "I insist," I tell her as I gesture to my bed._

_ "Seriously, no. I'm not taking the bed. I will sleep on the floor before I sleep on the bed." She pauses and looks at me curiously before slamming her palm onto her head. Exasperated, she asks, "Why are we fighting over this? It's stupid. We can _both _sleep on the fucking bed. We're adults; we're mature enough to sleep in the same bed without fucking."_

_ I gulp a little and respond, "Yeah, you're right. It's no big deal." I clear my throat. "Um, I'll just change into some sweatpants," I say as I move toward the dresser._

_ "Do you normally sleep in sweatpants?" Katniss asks suddenly._

_ "Well, no."_

_ "Do you normally sleep in your boxers?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Then sleep in your boxers."_

_ "But-"_

_ "'But' nothing. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable in your own home. Plus, I've already seen you in your underwear! Or do you not remember our first date?" She smiles as I give a chuckle. "Just pretend I'm not even here."_

_ "Not likely," I mutter as I watch her crawl to the middle of the bed and strip off my shirt._

_ Oblivious to my mutters, she asks, "Which is your side?"_

_ "Your left—closest to the window. I like it open when I sleep."_

_ "Okay," she says as crawls back off the bed and cracks the window. She flashes me a smile as she settles on the side of the bed I didn't claim. Without thinking, she begins pulling her braid apart and runs her fingers through the waves in her hair. Her long, black hair is stunning. This is the first time I've ever seen it down. I wish she'd wear it down more often._

_ "Thanks." My pants follow my shirt to the floor. Instead of picking up my clothes, I slide my foot under the bundle of clothes and quickly jerk my leg up. The clothes fly straight up into the arms. I aim for the hamper in the corner of the room and throw the clothes in._

_ Katniss whistles, "Wow, impressive."_

_ "Oh, is it? I wasn't aware I had an audience," I say innocently as I turn off the lights and climb onto the bed._

_ A silence settles over the two of us after I slide into the sheets._

_ Finally after a few minutes, Katniss breaks it._

_ "You lied."_

_ "I'm sorry, what?" I turn my head toward her in the darkness and am shocked when I'm able to clearly see her gray eyes staring at me._

_ "You lied to me."_

_ "About what?"_

_ "You don't sleep in boxers. You sleep in boxer _briefs._"_

_ I roll onto my side and face her as the laughter overtakes me. "Will you ever forgive me?"_

_ "I'm thinking about it."_

_ I blindly grab for her and grasp it in both of mine. "Please?"_

_ She sighs. "I suppose so."_

_ "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" I say over enthusiastically and repeatedly kiss her hand._

_ Laughing, she pats my cheek with her other hand. Then is all seriousness she announces, "I ask for only one thing in return."_

_ "Anything."_

_ "Keep the nightmares away."_

_ Letting go of her hands, I rest my hands on the sides of her face. Looking her straight in the eyes, I deadpan, "I will do everything in my power."_

_ "Thank you," she whispers._

_ I pull her body right next to mine and slide my arm around her waist, my hand rubbing where her tattoo stretches across her skin._

_ Soon, I fall asleep to her rhythmic breathing, and I sleep better than I have in years._

I smile at the memory and the fact that a crisis downstairs has been averted.

It's around the time I normally wake up, but I don't want to ever leave this bed as long as Katniss is in it.

She starts to awaken after a little while of me watching her and tracing small circles on her back above her tattoo.

Her eyelids flutter open and she groggily rasps, "Morning."

"Good morning. How did you sleep?"

She beams at me and her eyes are full of unrestrained and pure mirth. "Perfectly. I can't remember I time where I ever slept better."

"Can I tell you something?" At her nod I continue with my forehead resting on hers, "Me too. I've haven't ever been this well rested."

"Maybe we should sleep together more often."

"Maybe."

Her steely eyes are locked onto my blue eyes as she leans in and gently presses a kiss to my lips.

Against my lips she whispers, "Thank you."

"For what?" I ask as my eyes flutter closed.

"For not lying to me about keeping the nightmares away. Thank you for being here. Thank you for letting me stay. Thank you for being you. Thank you for everything."

"You don't need to thank me. I wanted to do it. And you helped me just as much as I helped you. Let's just say it's a mutual 'thank you.'"

"Okay." She looks at me for a while until she whispers, "I want to kiss you so bad, but morning breath is stopping me."

She always knows how to surprise me. I chuckle heartily, and grab her by the waist. Pulling her as close as possible, I kiss her once—short and sweet. Then I bury my face in her hair and breathe her scent in, running my fingers through the waves. I can feel her fingers pull on my curls lightly as she nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck.

We lay together for a little while until Katniss' stomach growls. I chuckle as she stretches and groans, "Was it a dream, or did you promise me breakfast?"

"I did promise to make you some breakfast."

"Well, hop to it, Rachel Ray."

"I see that you're not a morning person."

"Breakfast. Breakfast fixes everything. Make some and afterwards we can talk."

"What do you want me to make?"

She shrugs and tells me, "Something tasty."

"That's your only stipulation?" I laugh, "It has to be tasty? I could make anything!"

"Not 'anything'—something tasty. Surprise me."

As I climb out of bed, I announce, "There's an extra toothbrush under the sink you can use."

When I'm walking through the threshold, I hear her call out, "Thank you!"

I get to work in the kitchen, grabbing things from shelves, throwing things in bowls, mixing things together.

Katniss walks in a few minutes later still in her pajamas, but her hair is back in its braid.

I can feel her eyes on me as I flit around the kitchen. Every now and then I sneak a look at her, only to find her eyes on another part of my body—legs, chest, arms, or back.

After a few minutes, she says to me, "There you go; lying to me again."

This stops my movements. "What?"

"You told me yesterday that you don't always bake shirtless. Out of the two times I've seen you bake, both times you were shirtless. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but that seems highly suspicious."

I raise my hands in surrender. "All right, you caught me. At home, I bake shirtless. It makes baking feel manlier."

She laughs and settles down in a chair at the table. "What are you making?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"You asked for one."

"That was stupid of me."

"I guess so."

She stares at what I'm doing with renewed interest. I assume she's trying to figure out what I'm making, but I did the part that would it away while she was in the other room.

"The food will be done in about twenty minutes."

She nods. Rover trots over and nudges her leg. She sequels and laughs, "Rover, your nose is cold!"

Rover just whines and looks at me with his big eyes until I spring into action. I grab his empty dog bowl and scoop dog food from the pantry into it. Next I grab his water bowl and fill it in sink. When I set both full dishes down, Rover gladly chows down.

Katniss chuckles, "He really knows how to push your buttons, huh?"

"Yup, he's a quick learner." I look at her and sigh, "I wish I didn't have to work today."

"Me too." She looks at me with her eyebrows scrunched together. "I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave. Every time you go to work, I get premature gray hairs."

She snickers, "Why?"

"I get so worried about you. It scares me so much to know that you could leave and never come back. When you left me at the station, I thought I would rip my hair out. All I could think about was you—if anything had happened to you. And if it had, I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat—even if it meant death."

"You- you would _die_ for me?"

"Of course, I would die for you. Dying for you would be easy—it's just one unknown, one step into the darkness. There's one moment of paralyzing fear; there's one second that you realize that your life is coming to an end, that you are done, that you don't have to struggle anymore, that there will be no more fights for you. Everybody has to die at one point, so yes; I would die for you," I take a deep breath, "I love y-"

"_Don't!_" Complete and utter fear is in her eyes. Her breathing is erratic, and her jaw is clenched.

"'Don't' what?"

She shakes her head. "Don't say it."

"Don't say what?"

"Don't say that you _love_ me." Her gaze falls to the floor. "Everyone who has ever said that to me ends up hurt."

Her broken voice stabs at my heart. I walk over and wrap my arms around her. She's trying to keep her cries in, and her body is shaking with the effort. Her arms bind around my neck, and her fingers tangle themselves in hair.

"Hey, Katniss, it's okay. You're fine. I won't say it. Don't worry about it. I'm not going anywhere."

"No, it's not okay, Peeta. I'm so sorry. How could you put up with me? I'm a blubbering mess."

"No, you're not. I don't 'put up with you;' I enjoy every minute we're together and dread every second we're apart—so much that I would die in your place so that I wouldn't have to live without you. It's so selfish.

"But even more, Katniss—I would _live_ for you. Life is so much harder than death. Instead of that one moment of fear, desperation, shock—there's millions of those moments. Life is full of unknowns, and it's uncontrollable. Fear of rejection, love, nightmares—all are a part of life. You never know what'll happen next. Death is salvation from life; death is the savior because it takes you away from all the horrors of life. Some people choose to die rather than continue on in their rotten lot of life. They would rather face the one unknown than face the world every day.

"Love might be the only thing that makes life worth living. Because love takes away all those fears—or at least overrides them. Nothing else compares, which I know alarms you because you think that completely submerging yourself in one person is just an accident waiting to happen.

"And I know the word 'love' scares you because you think that expressing it will take everything away and leave you with an empty shell. So, I won't tell you that I love you—not yet. But I will tell you that I'd live for you. I'd live for you, Katniss. It's going to be hard, but I'll live for you."

She pauses and pulls back from me a little bit. "Holy shit, Peeta." She looks speechless. "I- I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I'm here."

She stares at me for a long time before she lunges forward and pulls my face to hers. Our lips crash together almost painfully. My heart pounds in my chest.

This kiss is urgent and desperate; Katniss is pouring everything she's got into it. She stands up so our bodies can be pressed more tightly together. I feel one of her hands on the bare skin of my back, roaming and tracing the muscles. The other hand slides down onto chest and rests there.

Her mouth tastes minty, and I'm sure that my mouth is gross because I haven't brushed my teeth yet this morning. She doesn't seem to mind though because she's fervently attacking my mouth with her tongue. I definitely don't mind.

Her tongue is exploring the inside of my mouth, and I let it. Slowly I slide one hand out of her hair and down her body. Pausing at the hem of her shirt, I wait to see if she'll deny access. She doesn't. I slip my hand underneath her shirt and feel the contours of her stomach muscles. I don't know why they turn me on so much, but I can't stop the moan that flies from my mouth. My hand moves upwards but not to her chest—to her back. I feel the bumps of her ribs along the way, and I run my knuckles over them. Then my fingers trace the slightly raised skin of her tattoo.

I love this tattoo. Now that I know about it, I can't imagine Katniss without it. It's a part of who she is.

I hear the beep of the oven timer, but I ignore it. After a minute, Katniss' stomach rumbles so violently that I can feel it against my body.

She breaks away from me and leans her fore head against mine. We're both breathless. Katniss chuckles, "I think breakfast was ready about a minute ago."

"You're right." Slowly we untangle ourselves from each other and I walk to the oven to take breakfast out. "Don't look," I command as I take out some icing.

Katniss grumbles about it but shuts her eyes. When I'm finished icing, I slide the pan in front of her and tell her she can open her eyes.

"Oh shit, those look really good," she comments when she sees the cinnamon rolls.

"They should be really tasty. Try one."

She grabs one and licks the icing off the side before it can drip on the table. I sit down so she can't see the effect it had on my body. She's not helping the situation when she moans after she takes a bite.

"It's really tasty, you're right." She leans back in the chair and takes another bite.

I grab one, hoping I can focus on it and not her. It doesn't work.

We eat in relative silence before she states that she has to leave soon if she's going to make it to work on time.

She leaves to change back into her clothes from yesterday while I clean up our sticky mess. When she walks back into the kitchen, I hand her a cup of coffee and walk her to the door. Rover licks her hand before taking off at a run into the other room.

With a quick kiss, I grab her hand and tell her, "Please be safe."

She looks me dead in the eyes. "Always."


	14. Chapter 14: On Top Of the World

**A/N: I have no excuses to give you guys. None that you'll want to hear anyway.  
A reminder that in this AU, it's still around the time of Thanksgiving.  
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.  
The song for this chapter is On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons.**

Chapter 14: On Top of the World

Peeta's POV

I have this love-hate relationship with the sirens.

When I hear them, I'm automatically reminded of Katniss—which is _never_ a bad thing.

But then they remind me of what she does for a living, and that _is_ a bad thing because it never fails to give me anxiety.

So when driving to work at five in the morning, having fire truck wail past and threaten to give me an anxiety attack is not a good thing.

By the time I walk into the bakery, the sirens have left me with irrational anger than I know how to handle.

It's been a week since I've seen Katniss; Thanksgiving has kept us apart. She spent the holidays working and spending time with her family. I've done the same.

As I violently mix batter in the kitchen, my brother Rye walks up to my side and peeks over my shoulder into the bowl. He's holding an un-iced cookie and is continuously taking small bites of it.

When he doesn't back away after forty-five seconds, I grit from between my teeth, "What?" The crunching noise from his cookie is getting to me.

Rye turns his thoughtful gaze to my face and, after he swallows, asks with complete seriousness, "Are you upset that you haven't given her the 'D' yet?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, so she rejected you," he says, raising his brows and pointing at me with what is left of his cookie.

"If I knew what you were talking about, I'd be able to respond adequately."

"Come on, little bother. The '_D_.'" He gestures toward his dick with both hands.

"Jesus, Rye. What the fuck?"

Rye is nosy, and usually he doesn't bother me when he asks a million questions, but his question insinuating that Katniss and are intimate—or trying to be—rubs me the wrong way. I don't like that he wants to know the specifics of my relationship with Katniss. I want to keep Katniss to myself.

"What? It's not that bad a question, Peet. You seem pissed. Is it so bad that I think she rejects your advances when you come at her with your dick?"

"First off, I'm not pissed-" I try to start, but Rye interrupts my train of thought with his mouth full.

"Ha! That's a good one!" He continues as I wipe the cookie crumbs that spewed from his mouth to my face, "Remember a few minutes ago when you punched that dough to a pulp?"

My jaw clenches. He's right; he's gross, but he's right. I did knead that dough especially hard.

Conceding, I say, "Fine. But I don't 'come at her with my dick.' I haven't tried anything like that with her. We're moving slowly—physically that is."

"What do you mean you're 'moving slowly—physically'?"

Taking my time with answering, I think about what I've said. I didn't really particularly spend too much time thinking about what I was going to say _before_ I said it; I just wanted to appease Rye and get him of my case. What I said was true; we aren't having sex. But emotionally, I'm attached. I can't even think about letting her go.

"I love her."

Rye chokes on his cookie. "What?" is all he can manage to croak.

"I. Love. Katniss."

He looks at me with wide eyes before a bout of coughs seize his body. Trudging to the sink, he turns it on and cups his hands under the flow, bringing his hands to his mouth to sip at the water. After a few repetitions of this, he turns back to me with a completely serious face. "That's insane, Peeta."

I sigh. "Trust me; I know. Even to me, it sounds crazy. But it is completely true. I can't imagine saying a sentence more true."

"You barely even know her, Peeta. When did you meet her again? Yesterday?"

"Fuck off, Rye. I've known her over a month."

"One month. You've known her for a month, and you love her. Come on, Peet, I know you were never very smart, but this is a whole new level of stupid."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black. At least_ I _finished high school."

Rye leans an elbow on my table and sets his head in his hand. He shrugs nonchalantly, "What's the point of going to school when you've already got a secure job? I know I'll always have a job here—I'll always have a place. There was no need to prolong the separation of my full time job and me."

I look at the wall and sigh quietly. "That's similar to how I feel about Katniss. I know she'll always be in my heart. This is real." I look at Rye, "I don't think I could be away from her if I tried with everything I have. I'd always find a way back to her. She is the strongest person I've ever meet—in mind, in body, in spirit, in everything. This is it for me. She's it for me."

"Then what are you standing here for?"

My eyebrows scrunch together. "Huh?"

Rye gestures to the door. "Leave. Go be with her."

I hesitate and stutter out, "I-I-I can't." I motion around me, "I have work to do."

"Peeta! You're the boss! You can do whatever you want. You can leave right now if you want to, and I know you do. So go. I'll take care of the bakery; I can handle it. Just go on."

"Yeah, okay." I untie my apron and grab my keys. As I head out the door, I turn back. "Hey, Rye."

He turns and lifts an eyebrow.

"Thank you."

"GET OUT, PEETA!"

"I'm leaving!"

* * *

She's singing. I hear her over the sound of a vacuum. Clear, crisp, stunning.

When I walk into her bunk room, she's singing and dancing as she vacuums the floor. Her hair is wet and wild, hanging loose around her shoulders and flowing down her back. Her uniform is disheveled; her undershirt isn't tucked in, her pants hang low on her hips, her shoes aren't zipped up. I remember her showing me that her shoelaces always stay tied because her shoes zip up near the arch of her foot. She said tying her shoes would take too long in an emergency.

Her hips swing around in a circle as she bounces around the room, the vacuum trailing behind her. She closes her eyes when she belts out any particularly loud lyrics. Her hand that's not holding the handle of the vacuum is tapping against her thigh in time with the song.

I highly doubt any actual vacuuming is being done.

A small speaker sits on her bed attached to her phone. I think music is coming from it, but I can't tell over all the other noise in the room.

She still doesn't see me standing in her doorway.

She's still singing.

Her smiles are still intoxicating.

She's still the most radiant thing I've ever seen.

Her voice is still the best I've ever heard.

"'_Cause I'm on top of the world, 'ay,  
I'm on top of the world, 'ay,  
Been waiting on this for a while now,  
Paying my dues to the dirt.  
I've been waiting to smile, 'ay,  
Been holding it in for a while, 'ay,  
Take you with me if I can,  
Been dreaming of this since a child,  
And I know it's hard when you're falling down,  
And it's a long way up when you hit the ground.  
Get up now. Get up. Get up now.  
And I know—"_

Her voice cuts off abruptly. When I pull my eyes away from her delectable lips, I find her eyes quickly. She's staring straight at me.

Eyes wide and breaths coming in little pants, she slowly reaches to flip the vacuum off. Once the vacuum's noise has died out, I realize my suspicions about the speaker sitting on her bed were right. The song she was singing still pumps out of the speaker, but not unbearably loud.

She straightens up and opens her mouth to speak but no words come out. After a few attempts at speech, Katniss gives up and turns her head away from me. She clears her throat softly, and I can see the blush on her cheeks.

"Hi," I start quietly.

"Hi."

An awkward pause ensues, though I don't know why. Her voice is lovely, and she has nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I've heard it before—though she might not know about that afternoon in the parking lot.

"So, what, uh, what are you doing here?" Katniss tries again, still not looking at me.

"Well—"

"Not that you aren't welcome here!" Katniss interrupts, "I mean, I just wasn't expecting you; you didn't call me. Not that it's a problem because—"

My fingers on her chin give her a pause. "Hey," I say softly near her cheek. "I'm sorry that I didn't call you. I just, I had some free time and figured I'd come and see you. It's been too long."

"I missed you," she says so quietly that I lean in closer to catch it.

"Then I'm glad I came—because I missed you too."

"I'm glad you came; I'm just sorry that you walked in when you did."

"Why is that?" I can't think of a single reason that she wouldn't want me to see her so free and happy.

"Well, first of all, look at me," she gestures to her disheveled state.

"Gladly," I interject into her list. "I could look at you all day long." I place one and on her hip and run my thumb along the bone that slightly protrudes.

"This is not how I want anyone to see me."

"Why? You're radiant. I wish you'd let me see you like this more often."

"Shut up, Peeta, that's not true."

"I don't lie."

She looks up at me from under her lashes after I say that. Then quietly with her eyes slightly squinted—as if something confuses her, she says, "No, you don't, do you?"

With the slight shake of my head, she leans in and closes the almost nonexistent space between our bodies.

Her kiss starts gentle and caressing but quickly turns needy. I'm so engrossed in the feeling of her tongue on mine and the smell of vanilla in her damp hair that I don't hear the approaching footsteps.

"Hey, Kitty Kat, Marcus is her—fifteen minutes late as always, but you can go now if you are—" The voice breaks off into a cat-call type whistle.

Katniss springs from me and runs her fingers through her hair as she spins away from me.

I turn to find the source of the voice. A grinning Darius stands in the doorway—his bright red, curly hair standing in all directions, making his smile even creepier.

"Come now, Kitty Kat," he starts, "Are you supposed to do that in your bunk room? No, you're not. I didn't know you had it in you, Kitty. That looked pretty intense. What until the other guys hear about it—"

Before Darius has finished his thought, Katniss has pushed herself past me and is in Darius' face. She is more menacing than I've ever seen her as she jabs her finger into Darius' chest roughly and says, "You will not tell them. You will not breathe a word of this. You will not mention this again—not to me, not to Peeta, not to my family, not to _anyone_. You will not hint at what you just saw. This whole situation will be lost to the wind, or you will sorely regret it. Do you understand?"

I have never seen a man so scared in my life. Normally Darius towers over Katniss, but in this moment she is a giant. Katniss is completely in control.

Darius swallows and asks, "Are you threatening me?"

Katniss shakes her head slowly. "That was no threat. That was a promise."

"I won't tell anyone."

"Then I won't have to fulfill my promise." She points to the hallway. "Get out."

As Darius leaves, Katniss watches. Once he's gone, she moves back into her room and refuses to look at me. I don't say anything as she gathers her things and throws them into a duffle bag. When she's done, she moves back toward the door and says, "Come on."

We walk outside, and Katniss heads to her jeep. I don't want to leave her yet, so I follow her. She throws her bag into the back and finally turns to look at me.

"I know you have questions, so I'll take care of that right now." After a deep breath she says in a rush, "Technically, we're not supposed to have spouses/boyfriends/girlfriends in our bunk rooms by ourselves. The rule is to prohibit sexual acts that could prevent a firefighter from being prepared to leave at any moment. Basically, no one wants to be caught with his pants down when a call goes out. What we were doing could get me fired, and I really need this job. That's why I freaked out on Darius and asked him not to tell anyone."

I raise a brow at her. "You didn't ask him not to tell anyone—you _demanded_ that he didn't tell anyone."

She chuckles, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I demanded it."

I step closer to her. "It was so sexy."

Now she raises a brow at me with a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. The only thing that could have made it hotter would be if you were wearing your suspenders."

She snorts and her smile grows into a crinkly-eyed smile. "Shut the fuck up, Peeta."

"Okay." And then we're kissing again.

When she pulls away a minute later, I can feel her smile on my lips.

"Don't leave me yet," I whisper on her lips.

She shoves me toward the driver's side door. "You drive."

"What?" I ask her sharply.

"Get in the driver's seat and put your foot on the gas. Simple. Drive."

"Uh, okay. But what about my car?"

"We'll come back to get it later. Now, let's go."

I get in and shut the door. I grip the wheel tightly once the jeep is started to keep my hands from shaking.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah?" She doesn't look up from where she's fiddling with the radio.

"Where are we going?"

She hardly pauses. "Do you remember the way to my mom's house?"

"Mostly."

"Then let's go." She gestures wildly to the road ahead of us.

I start driving out of the city carefully. There is no way I will take the chance of messing up Katniss' prized jeep. Katniss has started some music and is singing quietly. I wish she would sing louder, but I'm not going to ask her to. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

Finally, we make it to an old back road in the sticks that I vaguely remember. That's when Katniss decides to speak up.

"Hit the gas."

My eyes cut to hers as I ask her for the second time today, "What?"

"Pedal to the metal, Peeta."

"Why?"

"Because you need to relax—and I want a rush." She reaches over to turn the radio up. When I hesitate to speed up, she chants, "Do it; do it; do it!"

"Okay! Okay!" I press the gas pedal down a little further.

"Don't be a pussy, Peeta! Let's go! More. Faster."

"I'm not a pussy," I quietly respond as I put more pressure on the pedal. Our speed increases drastically.

"Do you always give in to peer pressure? Jesus, Peeta, this is a law you're breaking here."

I squint my eyes at her.

"I'm kidding," she chokes out through her laughter.

The radio goes quiet as the song changes. I recognize the song as it comes on and hum along.

"You know this song?" Katniss half-yells at me to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, it's Show Me What I'm Looking For by Carolina Liar."

She nods her head. "Impressive."

Singing louder, her foot taps along to the beat. Her smile grows as she looks at the scenery blurring around us.

At the next chorus, I lose it. I sing loudly along with the radio and press the jeep impossibly faster. I can't help myself; I see Katniss lost in the music and want to feel like her. She seems so happy, like there's nothing else she'd rather do, and I'll be damned if I'm going to rain on her parade.

So I join in. I'm no singer, that's for sure, and my voice is laughable compared to Katniss's, but I sing well enough to match the pitch and hold a note.

Katniss looks over in surprise when she hears me, never faltering in her singing, but her smile stretches farther across her face so widely that it looks like it might hurt. While she stares at me, I throw my head back and sing louder than before—louder than her.

She laughs and my antics and follows my higher pitch.

I feel complete.

Nothing matters, except the smile on her face and the words that slip from her lips.

"_So show me what I'm looking for."_

"Shit, Peeta! Hit the brakes!"

I'm too lost in the music, in her, in this feeling of wholeness. She sees it before I do.

"Fuck, Peeta! Stop, stop, stop! Brakes—fucking brakes!"

I hear her too late.

I realize too late.

I hit the brakes too late.

As the car careens toward the deer at a speed faster than light, I can think only one thing, _We're both going to die._


	15. Chapter 15: I Lived

**A/N: Okay, I've left the cliffhanger unanswered for long enough. I hope you guys enjoy how I've spun their situation.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.**

**The song for this chapter is I Lived by OneRepublic.**

Chapter 15: I Lived

Peeta's POV

I can't see anything. Everything is black.

The screeching of the tires has been permanently ingrained into my ears. They ring with the noise perpetually.

I'm scared.

My heart is racing. My chest might explode from the accelerated heartbeat, along with my gasping breaths.

My throat hurts—maybe I screamed more than I remember.

Katniss. What about Katniss? Is she okay?

I try to see and realize that my eyes are fine. They were scrunched closed so tightly that I was seeing stars behind my lids.

When my eyes finally open, I'm blinded by the light that floods in. For a few seconds, I have to squint and shade my eyes from the intense light.

I'm outside.

In Katniss' jeep.

Immediately, I look to the right where Katniss should be.

Her seat is empty.

_Shit_.

Did she get ejected from the car because there is no roof to hold her in? Where the fuck is she?

But the jeep looks fine. And she was wearing her seat belt—I remember that.

Then I see that her door is hanging open.

She left me?

Was she hurt so badly that she needed immediate help, and I was useless while I was passed out? There's no blood that I can see around her area, but maybe she had a broken limb, not a gash.

I can hear the music playing now. My ears have stopped ringing. The music is loud and hurts my ears, so I reach down to turn it off. When I lean down toward the knob, I see Katniss' phone sitting on the floor of the passenger's side of the car.

I pick it up and unplug it from the radio. The music stops.

If Katniss was seriously hurt, wouldn't she just call 911? Her phone was right at her feet.

I need to find her. Now.

Groaning, I turn off the still running jeep and open the door to climb out. I'm a little dizzy, but otherwise unharmed.

Looking down the street, I can see the skid marks I left when I slammed on the brakes. It looks like we might have spun in a complete circle before coming to rest in the middle of the road. I can't remember anything after the initial yelling and slamming on the breaks.

I don't see Katniss walking in the street or on the side of the road in either direction.

"Katniss!" I yell a few times as loudly as I can manage with my hands cupped around my lips. I can hear the desperation in my voice. I know I have to find her, but I don't know where to start. I'm unfamiliar here in the middle of nowhere.

Both sides of the road are lined with an unending forest that starts about thirty feet back. I scan the forest's edge looking for Katniss, but I don't see her. I know that the navy blue firefighter shirt she's wearing has red and white lettering on the back and white on the front; I think that she would stand out enough against the wooded backdrop that I would notice her.

The jeep blocks me from seeing the woodland on the other side of the street, so I walk around it and peer toward the trees.

I see something.

The silhouette is just inside the tree line, and it's more shadowy there, so I can't quite tell if it's Katniss, but what else could it be?

I start to walk toward the silhouette. As I approach, I call out to it. "Katniss?"

"Yeah, over here," she answers me.

I hear the air rush from my body. A weight lifts off my shoulders at the sight of her slim body staring off into the woods.

Rushing over to her, I grasp her arms and inspect her for any injuries—just like I did when she came back to the fire station after saving Rover from the burning building. Finding none, I look up at her face.

"You're okay? Not hurt at all?" I ask her.

"Completely fine," she replies quietly, not looking away from the woods.

"That's good…" I trail off, lowering my voice and wondering if something is really wrong with Katniss. She's acting odd—staring off after nothing, voice monotone, hardly even acknowledging my presence.

"So," I start up again, clearing my throat, "What happened? I remember you yelling, me attempting to stop in time, and then everything goes dark. I don't remember anything after hitting the brakes."

"Well, I screamed, and you didn't hear me at first. Then you understood and slammed on the brakes, and we were both screaming. The deer finally looked up at us because, Jesus Christ, we were so loud." She shakes her head. "The music combined with our screaming scared that little fucker away. When the jeep started spinning, you were already passed out—"

"Wait," I interrupt. "Why did I even pass out?"

"I've heard of people who flex a lot of their muscles at the same time and put their bodies under too much stress passing out. It's like brain overload—too many signals going out at the same time, so your brain shuts down. Turns your whole body off, like unplugging a computer that's frozen. So, you passed out when you slammed on the brakes."

"You're telling me that by the time I passed out, there was no reason to stop anyway because that deer ran off?"

She purses her lips. "Yeah."

"I can't believe it. Don't get me wrong—I'm so glad that we didn't hit anything, but I was so sure that we were done for when I saw the deer."

"Well, believe it. That's what happened."

I shake my head and sigh. "This is the craziest thing that's ever happened in my life. Probably one of the scariest things that's ever happened too."

"Yeah, this made its way up my charts too." Still, no inflection in her voice.

After a few minutes of silence, I gain the courage to ask her another question.

"Hey, Katniss," I start, "What are you doing out here, staring into the woods at nothing?"

"I'm not staring at nothing, Peeta," she chuckles quietly as she tilts her head forward and nods at a place deeper into the woods, "Look."

When I look to where she nodded, I can't see anything from my vantage point next to her, so I shift behind her—my chest against her back—and peer over the top of her head.

"Oh, wow." This slips from my mouth before I even think about it.

"I know."

"This is amazing," I whisper in Katniss' ear as we watch the little family of deer play about fifty feet away.

Katniss nods her head, and I feel her chest shake with silent laughter when the father deer gives his young boy with budding antlers a gentle shove.

"Which one did we almost hit?" I ask in her ear.

For the first time since I woke up in the car, she glances back at me. Then, facing her head forward again, she slowly points at the young buck. "The little one."

"Where were his parents?"

"They crossed the street when the car stopped and you were passed out. I followed them here."

After a silence that we spend watching the family, I lean into Katniss further with my arms wrapped around her waist. "They look so happy. You know, even though we almost killed their son."

Katniss looks at me with a smile, crooked smile on her face. "That's the funny thing about life, Peeta," she whispers to me with shining eyes, "You have to just keep moving on. Leave the past where it belongs—the past. Remember it, but don't dwell on it."

With my chin resting on her shoulder and my eyes on the deer, I squeeze Katniss lightly and start swaying to an unheard beat. Katniss turns to lightly kiss my forehead before shifting around in my arms so that I'm holding her more fully. I straighten up so I'm not stooped to her height anymore, and she rests her head in the crook of my neck.

I feel her small body taking deep breaths and shaking slightly. I pull back from her lightly to see her face. A fat tear rolls down her cheek as she looks up and me. When our eyes meet, she shakes harder and a choked sob slips from her throat.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I ask, pushing the stray hairs from her face and resting my hand on her cheek.

"It's, uh, finally hitting me," she says with gulp, "That you could have died—that we both could have died. I mean, what was I thinking? This was so stupid—of course something bad would come of it. And then you passed out, and holy fuck that scared me to death. When we finally stopped, you wouldn't wake up—and I slapped you _hard_ to try to get you up, but you still wouldn't get up. I'm sorry about that, by the way; you're cheek is still a little pink," she reaches up to stroke my face as more tears fall from her red rimmed eyes. "I was so alone, Peeta. I held your hand until I saw the older deer walk across the street. I don't know what possessed me to follow them, but I did, and I left you alone passed out in my car in the middle of the road."

"Katniss, it's alright. We're alive. We're not hurt. The past is in the past. Let's just keep moving on."

She frowns and sniffles as I throw her words back at her. "I guess you're right. But how could I fucking do that to you? I'm sure you freaked out when you woke up by yourself. I mean, I was fucking gone. What the fuck kind of girlfriend does that to—"

"Katniss," I interrupt.

"Yeah?" she croaks.

"You just called yourself my girlfriend."

"Uh, yeah, I guess I did." She looks away from me with wide eyes. "I'm sorry. Does that bother you? I should have—"

"No, stop. It's fine. I, uh, I actually like hearing you say that. And, by now, it's true. I mean, I can't go a day without thinking about you. I'm invested."

She chuckles quietly and looks back up at me. "I know what you mean. I think about you all the time; despite how it seemed, I'm actually very happy you showed up at the station today."

"Me too," I beam at her, "Even after all this craziness, I wouldn't trade this day for anything else."

"Me neither," she chuckles as she wipes the remaining tears from her face.

"Let's get out of here," I tell her, pointing a thumb over my shoulder.

She grabs my hand and leads me out of the trees back towards the street. "So," she starts as we walk, "I'm your girlfriend now." She sneaks a peek at me.

"Yeah...?" I trail off with an eyebrow raised at her, wondering if she got a head injury and is having short term memory loss.

She hesitates, then, "Does this mean I get cheese buns any time I want?" She looks at me with an unabashed smile and raised brows.

I shake my head at her with a chuckle. "Yes, Katniss, you can have as many cheese buns as you want, whenever you want. I should have guessed that you had ulterior motives for wanting to see me. You're only in it for my cheese buns."

"Of course not, Peeta," she winks at me, "You also have a charming personality that can put anyone on your side, fetching looks that would make any sane woman swoon, a winning smile that lights up a room, a booming laugh that makes everyone around you laugh too, and an air about you that makes me gravitate toward you."

"Oh, is that all?" I tease her with a crooked smile.

"Yes, you wonderful asshole."

I laugh as I walk around the jeep to the driver's side door.

"Oh, hell no, Peeta!" Katniss says, looking at me with wide eyes as I approach the door. "I'm driving from now on."

"No, I wasn't going to attempt to drive again; I was going to open the door for you, Katniss."

"Oh, thank God. You can add 'chivalrous' to your list of positive qualities from earlier. Oh, and 'baking' because you make some tasty shit—including cheese buns."

"Thank you," I chuckle as I help her into the jeep.

When I climb in, she asks me to hand her phone to her, so she can start some music—albeit at a more appropriate volume than earlier.

She fiddles around on her phone for a second before slow music starts playing from the speakers. As she makes a U-turn to head back to where we came from, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, thinking it might be Rye asking me to come back to the bakery and help, but it's not Rye.

It's from Katniss.

Quickly, I glance at Katniss with a questioning look on my face, but she refuses to look away from the road at me. I think I can see a hint of a smile on her face.

The text says, "You know, now would be a fantastic time for some cheese buns."

I look back at Katniss who now has a full-blown, crinkly-eyed smile on her face. "What is this?" I ask, flashing my phone's screen at her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Peeta. I put on some music and am currently driving us home. That's all."

"Oh, no. We aren't going home, Katniss."

"No?" She raises an eyebrow at me. "Then where exactly _are_ we going, Mellark?"

"The bakery," I say with a mischievous smile on my face and a plan already forming in my head.

* * *

**A/N: I was going to add more to the end of this chapter, but I would end up being too long, so I figured that I'd split it up.**


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